Roland The Archer - A Grimgar Fanfic
by Lonewanzerpilot
Summary: Roland woke in a dark room with some others. Feeling as if he knew what he was doing, he picked the obscure Archer class. This is his story of surviving, earning and progressing in Grimgar with his oddly named party.
1. Chapter 1

Hi.

My work is "Roland the Archer", based on the Light Novel Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash by Ao Jyumonji. This is an attempt at an informal NaNoWriMo 2018.

Characters and 1 class with skill set are created so I don't steal the source story 100%.

I intend to use the events from "Awaken" in book 1 till Operation Two-Headed Snake in book 3.

Set some cheats and crutches.  
\- Not OC, so unregistered at NaNo for safety.  
\- The fanfic is based on an existing story to reduce the burden of having to create from scratch.

Story was finished before uploading. Also, this is my first time on this site so formatting may take time.

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"Awaken"

Roland woke with a start. It was dark. _Whose voice was that?_ he thought. He didn't know where he was.

"Fuck's my phone?", a voice sounded. It was irritated and female.

Hearing her say that, he reflexively felt his pockets. _Well of course not_ , he thought, he was in bed, and the phone would be on his bed stand at the left. Roland winced as he jabbed his fingers into a stone wall. _Wait. What's a phone? It sounds familiar_. He felt the wall. It was made of stone, slightly rough and cold. He then realised he was lying on stone as well. It wasn't smooth so it poked against his back. The cold wasn't helping either.

"Ah, would it kill for some proper down?", said another voice. This one was sleek, older and had a slight vibrating hum to it, like a singer who sang slower, sadder notes. Roland heard a small grunt and some movement as the man sat up.

"Who the hell are you?", asked the irritated girl.

"My, spicy aren't you? Dash of paprika", answered the man.

"Where's my phone?", asked the girl as she became exasperated. She gave a small 'Ow', her fingers likely jabbed into a wall as well. There was a slapping sound as she felt the wall and what they were all sleeping on. What's a phone? There was something sitting at the back of Roland's mind. It felt like the answer to all questions. Just as sudden as it was there, it vanished.

As their eyes got used to the dark, things were actually just very dim. Roland looked up and saw candles on a rusty chandelier. It gave off light, but not enough of it. Looking around, it seemed like they were in a cave hewn out of rock. The walls were chiseled rough but straight and they were on small bed-like platforms alongside that were also carved from the rock.

The three observed each other. The man was as tall as Roland. Fit, clean shaven, dressed in a body fitting shirt and jeans. The girl wasn't a girl at all but a lady. She was still sitting and her leg was bouncing. She wore something loose, like sports clothing. It was like she was wearing somebody's P.E. clothes; the person was larger than her.

"So who are you, and why am I stuck in a room with you?", asked the lady. The man answered first.

"Brewary."

"Roland."

"... Demit". She got up and felt her pockets. She stopped and looked like she was thinking hard.

"What's a phone and why am I looking for it?"

"I don't know, Paprika. Seems I was looking for it too", answered Brewary.

"Don't call me that-", she was interrupted by what sounded like a metal gate in the distance.

"Guess that's where we're going", said Roland. He stood up and approached Demit for a handshake. She curled her fingers for a bump. Roland approached Brewary and he took it.

"My, a man of manners."

"I figure since we don't know each other and are in it together, might as well start."

"Sounds good. One more and we'll have a fireteam", said Demit.

 _What's a fireteam?_ The three shook their heads slightly. Snapping out of the daze first, Demit went past the 2 men and walked down the hallway. They followed. The hallway was just like the room they were in; carved right out of stone, rough but flat. As they walked, they came towards brighter lights. There was a lamp and an iron gate. Demit sped up and flattened herself against the wall beside the gate. She peeked, making sure as little of her head as possible showed.

"Stairs", she said. She waved the 2 men away from clear view from the doorway. Testing it, she found it could open with a creak. She looked back at the 2 men and was shocked.

"The fuck did you come from?", she hissed. Roland and Brewary looked back, got startled and Brewary started laughing. There was another person. He was slightly taller than Demit and wore something that looked like hers but was better fitting. It matched, was all black and had 3 white stripes on each item of clothing. He had his hood up and his hands in the front pocket. Eyes and an unsmiling face stared back at the three.

"Oh sugar, you gave me a fright", said Brewary. Roland extended his hand and the man took it.

"Jakson", he said. His hand went back into his pocket.

"Don't fucking sneak up on us, man", said Demit as she extended hers. Jakson fist bumped her and shrugged. This was no talker. His hand went back into the pocket again.

Up the stairs, there was another gate. This wouldn't open. Brewary called through the gate several times. Someone came and opened the lock.

"Out", said the voice. They entered a room that was properly lit. They were surprised to see who was waiting on the other side. Roland realised he looked like he came out of a period movie ( _wait, what was a movie?_ ). He was covered in armour from head to toe, with a sword at his waist. Brewary 'ooh'-ed and Demit cussed softly. Strangely, the man was surprised to see them too.

"Any more behind you?", asked the guard. Jakson shook his head.

"Well hello there handsome. Could you tell me where we are and what's going on?", asked Brewary. The guard said nothing and pulled a switch on the wall. Stone and metal crunched, the ground and wall shook slightly and a hole opened.

"Out". That was all they were going to get from that guard.

They stepped out into the morning. The sun had just risen, and something that looked like a red moon was retreating. Roland did not like the idea of a red moon. It was terrifying. To make things worse, the opening closed behind them. Jakson found a low wall and squatted on it. The four observed their surroundings. There was a town to one side, and there was the tower they were in on the other.

"We were in the dungeon of this thing, weren't we?", said Brewary.

"Do any of you know this place?", asked Roland. Everyone shook their heads. A high-pitched voice came from a distance;

"Araaaaaaaaa?! A second group so soon? This is not normal at alllllllll~!". She was short, with twin tails. She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her towards them. She stopped, did a twirl and wouldn't stop talking.

"Ehhhhhhhhhh? Only four? Groups are usually larger than this? Why is he squatting on a wall? Why is she wearing her daddy's clothes? Anyway, welcome to Grimgar, my name is Hiyomuuuuuuu~", she did another twirl and pose,

"-and I need to take you to Bri-chan as quickly as possible so follow after me, don't get left behind okayyyyy?"

She turned and marched away, tails trailing. Brewary thought she was adorable and followed. Demit and Jakson didn't really find the girl amusing but came along anyway. Roland thought she looked like some anime character. _But then what the hell is an anime?_ He scratched the back of his head and sighed. _What the hell is going on?_

The first thing they noticed were the gravestones. The scenery was almost perfect, with grasslands and hills and a packed earth path running between them. It was the white stones littering the hilly grasslands that were worrisome; there were so many. _This is no family graveyard_ , thought Roland. This was a proper cemetery, with rows and rows of neatly arranged headstones. Some had flowers on them. In the distance, some people could be seen just standing or sitting in front of individual graves. There were flowers, some badges and trinkets. Gifts for the departed, Roland thought. Hiyomu continued her cute little march, humming a happy tune, unconcerned with the size of the grave site. The cemetery distracted everyone. Demit was visibly more disturbed than others, almost like she had to visit one very recently. Jakson kept his head down, his hood covering his eyes. Brewary read out a few names with a 'Hmmm'. Roland looked at a few names too. He was surprised he could read the strange yet familiar text.

"Fucking hell", said Demit. Everyone privately agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

Still humming, Hiyomu led the group onto a cobblestone road leading into town. Buildings left and right were made of stone and wood. There was less order here than on the hillside. The road twisted and winded and spread in many directions, making it hard to know what was around the corner. More distracting was the crowd. They stared at the 4, just as the 4 stared back. There were armour, helmets, jackets, tunics, swords and shields, bows, staves and dresses. It seemed to make sense somehow. The ones who wore plate and chainmail were the warriors. They carried larger swords. The bows were archers. There was a wolf following one. Some wore robes and held staves with heavy heads. Some carried daggers and wore leather, with very little metal on them. Some carried shields with different designs.

The ones who weren't armed worked in stores and roadside stalls. They worked with their hands as crafters and artisans of all sorts. Sounds and smells of all sorts were there. A blacksmith hammered away at a piece of hot metal. There was a scrape of another whittling away a bow stave. There was one dressed in black armour and a curved sword haggling for the price of her bracer with the armoursmith. A baker brought out a fresh tray, its smell mixed with the open sewer drain. Further up that drain, someone scraping the fat off animal hides. Men with fat bellies sat on a table at the roadside, drinking from someone selling straight out of a barrel. Beside them, skewered meat and vegetables roasting over a row of coals.

Not one looked like the 4. The day was getting more tiring and confusing for Roland. _What the hell is going on?_

A cheerful call by Hiyomu brought them back to the now. They had stopped to stare back at the people in Alterna and Hiyomu had her head peeking out of a corner a distance away. As they approached, Hiyomu scolded them.

"Follow Hiyomu, understand? If you get lost, Bri-chan will get angry, very angry. Angry Bri-chan is scaryyyyyy", she said as she pouted in made-up anger. Brewary pinched a cheek and apologised sincerely on behalf of everyone, which she seemed to take. She led them to a 2 storey building. Roland groaned at what he saw. Some symbols were missing, but the sign was clear;

ALTERNA FRONTIER ARMY VOLUNTEER SOLDIER CORPS RED MOON

"The moon here is red, isn't it?"

"Of course, dummy! What other colour would it be? Yellow?". With practiced grace, she twirled and struck another pose;

"Jajajajajannnnn! Here's the Office of the Alterna Frontier Army Volunteer Soldier Corps: Red Moon!". _How can she be so cheerful_? thought Roland.

"Come, come!", she said gleefully. Demit entered first, with Hiyomu entering last.

"Bri-channnnnn! Four more! I'll just drop them off, byeeee!". They stood in an empty room with many tables and a shelf. It looked practical, where meetings could take place comfortably with drinks and food. Roland noticed the stools, chairs, tables and counters were thicker and sturdier, likely to bear the weight of people in plate armour. Maybe even to survive a few brawls. By the door was a large stand that could accommodate weapons of many sizes.

Roland looked away from the furnishings to find Brewary standing at the counter across someone terrifying. His hair was green, his build muscled. Somehow he could tell there was danger in that person. He had his blue eyes locked with Brewary's. His lips were glossy with lipstick and there was rouge on his cheeks. Roland heard a sound from Jakson and a quiet 'Sonofa…' from Demit. His face and neck was not the same colour and Roland knew how thick his makeup was. His gaze followed the neck to the chest and bare arms. There was no wasted fat on this guy. Despite how he looked, Roland recognised a killer. He felt especially frustrated at how he could somehow tell.

"My, look at what wandered into my lair", said this Bri-chan character, licking his lips. Brewary smiled and rested an elbow on the counter, leaning in.

"Welcome, little kittens. I am Britanny, your host. Also, Chief of the Volunteer Soldier Corp: Red Moon, Alterna Frontier Army. Call me Chief, but Bri-chan is fine too. Make sure to pour out all your love and affection while you say it, though. But you-," said Britanny, gently scraping Brewary's cheek with a dagger.

"- you call me nothing other than Bri-chan". A short pause.

"The rest of you, won't you greet your chief?", he asked.

"Chief", said Demit in a military-like manner. She straightened as she said it.

"Chief", said Roland. He wanted to look away but couldn't.

"Chief", said Jakson from somewhere behind Roland.

"So what's a few lost kittens to do now, Bri-chan?", asked Brewary. That dagger was still dangerously close to his face but he didn't flinch.

"Listen and listen well, kittens. This is a Volunteer Soldier office. Join the Red Moon Volunteer Soldier corp and earn your keep. Start from the bottom as trainees, then move up the ranks and become proper volunteer soldiers".

"Join the Army?", asked Demit.

"Oh no, kitten. Army fights the war at the frontier. There are lots of races out there that want to end us humans. It's a tough job and between defending borders and towns, they're stretched thin as it is, which is where Red Moon comes in."

"PMC then?", asked Demit. That sounded familiar too, but like many other things that day Roland forgot what it meant. Britanny gave a half-annoyed tut.

"Paprika", said Brewary. Britanny found the answer to be witty and those glossy lips parted wider.

"Volunteer soldiers fill the gaps in what the Army can't spend resources on. We go out and deal with threats outside the cities and borders. Occasionally there is a threat big enough to warrant the Army's attention and they send out an expedition. Then they will have mass recruitment of any Volunteer that wants to join in". he paused to switch the dagger to the other cheek.

"However, logistics becomes a problem for an army due to its size, and can only deal with one threat at a time. Volunteer Corp doesn't have that problem because it's composed of small parties that carry its own supplies. You have autonomy to choose how to approach a situation, and you insert yourself-", there was a slight 'shiiing' as the dagger scraped off Brewary's chin,

"- anywhere, to sow confusion, kill the target, gather intel, you name it. Understand?"

"Special Forces. Got it, Chief", said Demit. As soon as she said it, she looked a bit confused. That was another familiar word. Britanny paid her no heed. He leaned back and reached under the counter. 4 small leather pouches and necklaces were brought out.

"You will be paid 10 silver for joining," said Britanny. Fight and earn more. Lifting a necklace, he said "This badge marks you as trainee members of the Volunteer Soldier corp. Never leave without it. Come back with 20 silver and purchase the badge to become a full-fledged Volunteer Soldier, and all the perks that come with it. That will be your first true test". He tapped the table to indicate they may take the pouches and necklaces.

"If we say 'no'?". This was from Jakson. The tone showed some hint of belligerence. Britanny shrugged.

"Well, kitten. Walk right out that door and find employment somewhere. Some noble could use a chew toy. Maybe a tavern needs sweeping and a blacksmith someone to pump the furnace. I hear they pay and feed you next to nothing and you get worked to the bone. Or die in some ditch, I don't care. But not you, though. You stay alive for Bri-chan," said Britanny, tapping Brewary's chin with the dagger.

It took only a few seconds for Demit to decide. She inched closer, wrapped a pouch with a necklace and tossed it to Jakson. It was only then Roland could look away from Britanny. He looked and saw Jakson had found a stool and was squatting on it, with a bottle of drink in his hand. He caught the package and tucked it into his front pocket. The next one Roland caught and it entered his pants pockets. Demit put the necklace on and her pouch went into the front pocket of her sweater. Brewary reached for his, putting on the necklace. The cheap chain rattled slightly as Britanny ran the dagger tip along it.

"Congratulations, you are now trainee members of the Volunteer Corp. Remember, come back with 20 silver. Try not to die, there aren't many good men around to amuse me". There was no mistake who that statement was addressed to.

"Bri-chan, could you find it in your heart to spare more for your lost, desperate kittens?", asked Brewary. A light flashed in Britanny's eyes as he laughed, reached into his belt and took out a silver. He flipped it across the room and Brewary caught it. He was last to leave and close the door. Britanny could still be heard laughing inside.

From the time they entered the office to leaving it, the whole exchange took place with Britanny and Brewary's eyes never leaving each other.

"Right, next course of action", said Demit, rubbing herself all over like she just came from a cold place. _Britanny was quite unsettling_ , Roland agreed. Jakson gestured to a place at the side of the road where they could be out of moving traffic.

"Where did you get a bottle?", asked Roland. Jakson didn't answer but handed it to him. He took a sip. It was a mildly bitter beer. He handed the bottle to Demit who took also took a sip and passed it to Brewary. It was then evident on everyone's faces that they were hungry and thirsty.

"Men, let's refuel, then come up with a plan. We need intelligence and a base of operations so at the very least we won't spend the night in the open. Maybe get to know the locals so we're not in hostile territory", said Demit. She took the lead and walked in front, with everyone else following. People looked at them with some apprehension. They were dressed strangely after all. It seemed like random meandering but eventually, they ended up at a place they had been to before. Demit had led them into a path that covered one part of the town. At the very least, one could find their way back to this spot if lost.

They (Demit, actually) settled at a side lane that had 2 stalls selling meat and vegetable skewers on one and bread and drinks on the other. It was likely that she was attracted by the smell of food and having no sewer drain nearby. Signs bearing numbers were there to tell the price of each item. Demit greeted the twins who ran the stalls. Roland noticed her manners changed compared to her usual way of acting and speaking. She had her hands clasped together, a wide smile on her face and her voice cheery. She explained that they were new, they knew nothing but they had money for food, and could they tell as much as they could, in exchange for the business. Demit steered the conversation by first mentioning that each would have a drink and that she'd pay for the stallholders drinks too, so they wouldn't run losses entertaining guests. She rattled the silver in her pouch.

It worked. Paying customers are always liked. Jakson had his lips curled downwards and he nodded slightly, the way one quietly approves. Brewary had his arms crossed and he was stroking his chin, a smile on his face. Roland couldn't resist smiling as well. The twins abused the generosity slightly, having 2 drinks each (which was a more watered down version of the beer in Jakson's bottle). Jakson wanted 2 drinks too. The cost came to paying for 2 small loaves, 5 skewers, 9 mugs of drinks. The silver they had was too large for paying for street food, and the stallholders didn't have change for the group going Dutch, so Brewary offered to pay. They saw copper coins for the first time.

It was there they learned their first bit of intel outside of Red Moon office;

Where newcomers with Volunteer badges could stay for free,

A gathering place for Volunteers called 'Sherry's Tavern'. They gather at many places but certain important names like "Orion" could be found there,

100 coppers = 1 silver,

100 silvers = 1 gold,

And the building that could stash it away for a fee.


	3. Chapter 3

A grand, golden sign for a grand, golden warehouse.

YOROZU DEPOSIT COMPANY

They entered the building and were directed to a counter. Someone called from the end and they came forward. There sat a young girl in a leather chair, dressed in red, white and gold. Golden glasses sat on her nose and a golden pipe was in one hand. She had a very large and thick ledger before her on the counter.

"Ah, good morning, sweetie", greeted Brewary. The girl ignored him.

"Here at the Yorozu Deposit Company, it is proper to come forward one at a time, but since your faces are not known, I, the fourth Yorozu will forgive this impoliteness, but only this once", she paused to drag from her pipe.

"As is the code of the Yorozu, I will remember all names, faces, and transactions of customers. To erase any doubt, I keep a ledger for the benefit of workers and customers", she said as she tapped a blank page on the ledger. "My memory is flawless, as all Yorozu are flawless. Have no fear of losing or misplacing money and items given into Yorozu care."

"We heard from some stallholders that Yorozu is who to seek for money exchange, storing of items and coins?", asked Roland. She puffed with pride.

"As I have said, and as you have heard. We take 1/100th of the money you deposit as fee, calculated to the 100th copper. You will not be so insolent as to deposit 99 coppers and then 99 coppers more after that to avoid the fee, for Yorozu remembers it all and the fee shall be deducted. Fee for any item stored is 1/50th of the appraised value. You will not be so insolent as to suggest an outsider of Yorozu company's appraisal of the item's value. You will be pleased to hear that exchange is free, and Yorozu Company will trade 100 coppers for a silver and 100 silvers for a gold ". She took another puff of her pipe. Roland wondered what business a little girl has smoking but clearly she wasn't going to take that kind of question kindly.

"Now, allow me to enter your names into the ledger". She lifted a fine feather pen, waiting for names.

"My name is Brewary, sweetie". The tips of her ears became slightly red at the compliment. Her handwriting was impeccable and at the top of the blank page was written "BREWARY" in flowing script. She turned the page and looked over her glasses at Roland. _She really is pretty_.

"Roland". The page turned. He was happy to see that there was no W in his name. _How good is this little girl? Did she even have a childhood?_

"Demit". Nice and simple name, though he had never heard of it before now. The page turned.

"Jakson". The pen was replaced into its inkwell. Yorozu leaned back and took a puff before pointing the pipe at him. Her eyes narrowed.

"You are no 'Jakson'". _What the hell_? thought Roland. _What's going on now?_

".… nyet. Is Krestovozdvizhensky". The three looked at Jakson in shock. He shrugged.

"Is hard name."

"No name is too hard for the Yorozu", she said a little loudly, offended. Jakson leaned forward to look at the ledger, the flowing script of his name about 3/4 the width of the page.

"Will not repeat mistake."

"See that you do not", said Yorozu. She was less annoyed after the half-apology.

"Now, what business do you have with the Yorozu company?", she asked. Jakson wanted to exchange a silver coin. Yorozu rang a bell and a worker dressed in silver took the coin, disappeared, then reappeared with a tray of 100 coppers. They were tiny coins, but a 100 of them bulked out Jakson's pouch.

"Come again. The Yorozu Company is open every day, from 7 in the morning to 7 at night, no exceptions. I, the fourth Yorozu, will be waiting at this window to take your business". As they turned to leave, Yorozu added;

"…and never again lie to the Company."

Outside, they stopped Jakson.

"How does-?"

"Krestovozdvizhensky."

"Christoph… fuck …", Demit laughed a little.

"Crest-o…"

"Krestovozdvizhensky". No one could get it. Jakson shrugged.

"Is hard name."

"I'll call you 'Sugar' from now on." Pointing to Roland, then Jakson, then Demit;

"Honey, Sugar, Paprika."

"Motherfucker, don't call me that."


	4. Chapter 4

Their next order of business was 'establishing a base of operations', as Demit put it. They continued to wander the town, learning of landmarks and mentally mapping their way around. They found the location of Sherry's Tavern. They also found the Volunteer Corp lodging but did not check in, because they found out Trainees who got the free necklace still needed to pay 10 coppers. It was the 20 silver badge that made the room free. Other rooms elsewhere ranged as high as 40 coppers, so that option was out. Still, 10 was cheaper and clearly meant to help new trainees.

It was about 2 in the afternoon and everyone was rather frustrated at being in a place so foreign, so they decided to stop for lunch. This time, they found a stall that sold some kind of food in a bowl called 'Sorruz'. It was way too overpriced for the amount of coin they had, considering they were still jobless, but the day's events was a shock to all. As they slurped the delicious noodles and drank something from another nearby stall, they said nothing to each other. Each was lost in their own thoughts. The heavy dish helped raise their spirits somewhat. Jakson thought the copper coins in his pouch were a hassle so he paid for lunch, lightening the load considerably.

Roland had had quite enough.

"Let's just find a room, I want to sleep and maybe I'll wake from this bad dream."

"Rooms are 10 coppers per night, Honey", said Brewary. "We don't even have jobs yet."

"We're not exactly fueling on the cheap stuff, either", said Demit. They all saw what 4 bowls of Sorruz could do to a bag filled with copper.

"And we got no fucking clue how much things really cost long term, fucking local currency. If this were Dollars….", she trailed off. That word sounded familiar.

"Money not normal", said Jakson. The rest looked at him.

"10 copper food a day, 2 and half copper 4-bed room, if share", he said, gesturing to Demit. The guys could share, but Demit would need her own room. That was 20 coppers per night, with Demit paying 10 in full. Roland was impressed that he thought a great deal for someone who barely spoke. Thinking back at prices, 10 coppers was bad food but it could feed you for a day.

"1 silver, maybe 8 day", he said over his second drink. Jakson really did like to drink. A 10 copper meal allotment would not accommodate that.

"10 silver… too much."

"Sugar's right. 10 silver could feed a person for over 2 months. No one's that generous."

The last missing piece was job hunting. It was still day outside, and it was time to ask around again. It was time to try Sherry's Tavern. Halfway to the place, Jakson had another idea;

"You want know things? Find old man, little bit drunk. Pay his drink, he teach everything".

"Oh you're just looking for cheap booze again, Broski", snapped Demit. Yet 4 people in a tavern won't learn much, and it did make sense to split for awhile, and the plan was then to meet up at the lodgings at sunset.

Jakson slapped Roland's arm, gestured with his head, hand and a sound towards a side alley. It was decided. Brewary would head to Sherry's with Demit and Roland would follow Jakson elsewhere. Jakson seemed to have a knack for shortcuts, as he cut from alley to main street back to alley again. They came to what looked like the edge of the poorer side of town. Another slap on Roland's arm. Jakson motioned drinking and pointed to some slanted roof at the side of the street. It wasn't a store proper, but a roof erected between 2 buildings, blocking off the entrance to a dead-end alley. There were only a few small tables and stools. He held out his hand.

"One silver, take out now. Hide money bag". _Ah_ , Roland thought. He still had 10 silver pieces. _This asshole in his striped clothing is going to make me pay for bootleg._

Roland could see why Jakson chose the place. 2 older looking men sat on a table, drinking. That was to be their target. There were several empty mugs on the table, a sign that they had been drinking for awhile. The bartender didn't really look at them in a friendly manner on account of their dressing. He did however recognise the silver that Jakson spun on the counter. Jakson gestured with his head to some barrels and some mugs were set. There wasn't even a tap; it was scooping the mugs into the barrel and serving it straight. Jakson gestured some more so more mugs came out. Carrying 2 in each hand, the 2 men headed for the table. Some man in black with 3 white stripes on his hoodie and track pants followed by another in cargoes and a red t-shirt isn't hard to notice. The older men were not friendly.

"What you want, outsiders?". Jakson set to work; new people in town, and they saw some veteran warriors they could learn from, you know, maybe learn a thing or two, maybe some of their greatest battles, maybe be pointed in the right direction, so maybe they can stay alive as long and drink like sensible men instead of being headstones on that hill. Not asking for free, of course. Will accompany and buy some drink but please consider that new volunteers only have a few silver-

Jakson was interrupted right away. The warriors grabbed a mug each and began taking turns, talking over and interrupting each other. One enjoyed tapping his mug on the table for emphasis. Another one kept jabbing Roland or Jakson in the arm, depending on who he talked to. Waking up in the tower, coming out into an unknown world, the graveyard, Britanny and the weird Deposit Company girl was strange enough as it is. They were going to be hit with the worst one that day; just to start, one needed 8 silver. _So that was why Red Moon gave 10_. Jakson gestured for more mugs. 8 mugs were purchased that evening with Roland's silver coin. They had only one each as the veterans drank and talked themselves to sleep. They refused to pay for what the veterans had drunk before their arrival, so the annoyed bartender snatched the silver and slammed the coppers in change on the counter. There was no mood for largesse after what they have just heard.

It was almost dusk when they met at the lodgings, with Roland and Jakson being slightly later. Somehow Jakson managed to sneak a mug which he emptied along the way. Brewary and Demit were much more cheerful. It seemed like they had good info to share. Greeting them with a smile, Demit started;

"This guy right here is dead set on being a Warrior. Shit, one look at some dude's 2 handed sword, he's made up his mind. I'm telling him 'be a Paladin, I'll be a priest, we'll train together' but nah, he wants a longer sword."

"That solves part of the front line and healer, then. It's going to cost 8 silver each". That wiped off smiles anyone had. There was about a minute of silence as Demit and Brewary digested that news.

"Well, then we best get indoors, clean up, then share what we learn, darlings. It's been a long day for us, and it's not over yet."

"Fucking hell. Looks like we're sharing bunk."

10 coppers changed hands and the group went into their room. There were bunk beds on each side of the wall with only space for one to stand in between. There was a table by a high window, with one candle stand for the whole room. There was only straw to lie in for the beds. Demit went out first to clean up at the shared bath. She came back slightly annoyed, but fresher after all that had happened that day.

"Shit, the bath's a fucking hole in the ground, the toilet's a wooden bucket, the ground's dirt and stone". The men then left for the baths together.

They had their meeting in the room that night. The table was dragged between the beds.

"The guys at Sherry's didn't mention the price to join a guild?"

"Afraid not, Honey. I wished they did, and I wouldn't have spent so much."

"Common local knowledge, so the natives thought we knew. You do have your 8 silver, don't you?". Demit looked at each member to make sure everyone nodded. _It's funny how she calls people 'natives'_ , thought Roland. _As if there was a way out of this._

They shared what they learned. Basic tactics and where each person should stand, represented by silver coins arranged in formation. Basically, there were 3 roles; Front Line, Scout, and Support. Paladins and Warriors made the front line to use their armour and tank damage. Hunters and Thieves made better scouts. With a bow, Hunters could switch to support. At the back were the poorer armoured support class, in the form of Priest and Mage. Dread Knights were useful and could serve multiple roles, like an off-tank and melee support due to their lighter weight and being able to switch to the back lines in a pinch. They discussed what guild each member would join to see how the party formation would turn out;

Brewary would be a Warrior, and would not budge to be Paladin.

Demit would be a Priest, 'Cos then who's gonna take care of you hopeless fuckers?'. Brewary tried to convince her to be the Paladin, because Orion members did mention an experienced Priest named Mary that could potentially be recruited. Demit rubbished the suggestion. There was something about Mary; 'PTSD' and 'threat to squad morale'. Those sounded familiar. Even Demit seemed unsure of what she just said.

Jakson said 'Thief'. His hoodie was off, and under it also a black shirt with the three white stripes.

Roland explained that he somehow noticed bows before anything else, and was fairly sure that he knew how to use one. Actually, he liked bows. Yet with nobody remembering anything other than their own names, it was hard to be sure.

"Sure, we got game with a Hunter around", said Demit. She approved the potential source of food.

"In combat, designated marksman", she continued.

"Oh Honey you will have the cutest lil' puppy following you around", Brewary was excited about a Wolf Hound in the party.

"Uh, no. I'm going to be an Archer."

"Same diff, soldier."

"Not same". Roland felt a gentle push on the shoulder and a sound from Jakson. It was the sign he should do the talking.

So he explained what the Veterans said about Specialist classes. As far as they knew, there were things like Samurai, Archer and Necromancer. Matter of fact, Alterna had an Archery Guild close to the Hunter's Guild. It was a low intake guild as people tended to be more attracted to the Hunter. The one who kept jabbing his arm said that he once campaigned alongside an Archer. 'Them arrows could slam through armour plating, no way in hell could a Hunter ever pull that off', was the quote. 'Problem was, the poor bastard couldn't move much so he got speared where he stood when the front line got broken through' was the part he left out. Jakson said nothing as well.

It was decided. First thing in the morning after breakfast, off to the guilds for a week's training.

"Money's going to be bad once we come out", said Roland.

"Maybe can fix", said Jakson. He tied one arm of his hoodie to make a small bag and emptied his pouch into it. Everyone did the same. He gave it a few shakes, poured out the coins and redistributed them equally, with one extra copper that Demit took.

He gestured in a way that seemed to suggest 'Better?'. _Hardly, but it was the thought that counted_.

"Bri-chan's silver bailed us out, there. One of us wouldn't have a guild if it weren't for that. We thought 10 silver was plenty."

"So that's why he had no problems giving one away."

"All that's past. We graduate, hit the ground running and start earning", said Demit as she held out her hand.

"Hooah?"

"Hooah, Paprika dear", Brewary extended his hand.

"Yeah. Hooah."

"Ura", replied Jakson, his hand slapping the top of the pile.

The red moon shining through the window still spooked Roland, but he was exhausted. _What was 'Hooah' again?_ It was oddly comforting if a group said it together.


	5. Chapter 5

They parted ways the next morning. It was off to the edge of the forest out of town, where the Hunter's guild was. It wasn't too hard to find, as there was the occasional Hunter that could be asked. They weren't too happy to hear about someone wanting to be an Archer, though. Still, there was some kind of unwritten rule that one not be judged for their choice, so with a huff, a Hunter would gesture in some general direction.

 _Oh god, his right arm's larger than his left._ Roland almost spat out that thought as he saw the Recruiter. It was a pleasant, long-ish wooden building some distance away from the Hunter's guild office. The recruiter had his tunic sleeves cut off, showing very strong arms. Without armour on, his right shoulder was also noticeably larger.

"Did you see the dog sitting on the roof on the way in?", asked the recruiter.

"I saw a wooden wolf with a green collar painted on". The recruiter laughed. So did another figure at the corner of the room that Roland didn't notice.

"Good. You got the eyes for the job. Welcome to the Archer's Guild. This is a Specialist class with the support role in mind for combat. Your true power lies in what you send downrange and where you put it. We're glad you're willing to join us, but there's the matter of your badge as proof and payment…?", said the Recruiter as he held out his palm. The skin on his fingers was thicker and callused. Roland pulled out his badge from his collar and the 8 silver out of his pouch. On receiving payment, the Recruiter smiled.

"What's your name, Archer, for our records?"

"Roland without the W". The figure at the side started laughing first.

"Well Roland without the W, your training starts today. Your teacher will be Rowland with a W. Follow him". _So that's why the figure laughed._ He approached, bearing a mug of water and some bread. _Is that gratitude on his face?_

"Thank you for choosing us, Roland. With so many wanting to be Hunters, there aren't many true Archers around". Roland's first task after the water and bread was to take a wooden statuette of a cat with a white collar painted on, climb a small ladder to the roof and replace the wolf statuette.

"Do you have any idea how long the lil' pupper was sitting up there?"

He was led through a door to another larger and longer room. There were about 10 single but plain beds on one side, a long dinner table on the other. He was told to take off his shirt and choose a bed to set it on. There was a space where bow staves of different lengths, curves, and sizes were set and loose arrows sitting in barrels. A trapdoor leading underground was left open. There were doors on both ends of the rooms, presumably for the Archer Guild recruiter and Teacher. Out another door, a clear, wide open space with sticks set in the ground, each farther away. There was a spot darkened with constant digging and refilling, in which long stakes were planted in the ground.

"You will address me as 'Sir' or 'Master'. Stand straight, arms out. Let me see you". Hands grabbed and felt Roland's shoulders, neck, back, hands and arms. He could feel the harder skin on Rowland's right hand. His joints were rotated a bit too.

"You've handled bows before."

"I-I think so, sir. But I can't remember". Rowland understood what Roland meant.

"Apparently you have, but you were playing with some children's bow. Which is your main arm?"

"Right, sir."

"I have you for six more days. For today, you will be taught the exercises and jobs you will do every morning. Tomorrow, weapons training starts. You will learn the bow before anything else. Understood?"

"Yesser."

On day 1 he was taught the calisthenics to train target muscle groups. Emphasis was given to his back and right arm. He was made to jog up to the first marker and back, then jog to the second marker and back then on and on till the farthest marker, almost 400 meters away. Before he knew it, he was made to run for many kilometers. Blunt arrows were fired at him to keep him moving. 'Bigger lungs, more pull, and I sure as hell could use the practice', was what Rowland yelled. The Recruiter decided to join in and they laughed as they shot at Roland. The arrows never hit him, always landing close to his feet and he had to pick them up on the run back.

On day 2 he was woken at sunrise and taught to chop wood with a hatchet. It wasn't as simple as swinging to crack it. Rowland insisted that a log not be cracked in the centre, so it yielded different sizes of wood and kindling. He was made to carry the bundle back to Alterna and bring supplies to the Guild. All the while, Rowland accompanied him. Then calisthenics till noon. He was issued a bow, bowstring, archer's glove and bracer, and a quiver with a sheaf of arrows. He was taught which belt went where, how to string the bow and how to tie his glove and bracer on so it wouldn't get caught in the string.

"This is the 40-pound training bow, and the draw weight is the main difference between the Hunter and the Archer. That weight can be triple of this, and any Hunter can pull it just as well as an Archer can, but many Hunters choose not to. To the untrained eye, it's people doing archery. To an Archer", he said, jabbing Roland in the forehead once, "you know you can out-range that Hunter because your bow is heavier. Understand?"

"Yesser."

"But doing that takes practice, and it's a long way off before the skill difference shows, and you will have to purchase your own bow to do it later. For now, the trainee Archer will fire his first arrow." Rowland stepped back to join the Recruiter who had come to watch. They were both prepared to practice as well.

"He has used a bow before?"

"His muscles felt like it. Only one way to find out", answered Rowland. "Now Roland, take a deep breath. Muscle memory will tell you what to do. Aim for the first marker."

"But don't keep us here till sunset", joked the Recruiter.

Roland stood sideways, left foot leading. He breathed in as he pulled, held and released. The arrow sailed and landed 3 feet away from the marker. The Archers cheered and money changed hands. They were betting on something. The Recruiter rolled his barrel of arrows into line and pulled his war bow. It was as tall as a man. His arrows landed right at the base of the furthest marker.

Rowland explained that Roland did in fact know how to shoot a bow since the bowstring did not slam into the left forearm, but just a different one since he stood and loosed a different way. He then corrected a few things.

"You want to achieve being able to loose as soon as you finish your draw, so you only hold your arrow for a split second. The longer you hold, the more your aim goes off, especially when handling the heavier bows. When you leave, practice as much as you can. This is one of the many things no master can teach. It is like your muscles; it must be developed on your own."

"Yes, sir."

"Now go stand by his barrel, shoot for the next 2 hours. Don't rush, let your body learn the motions. Your goal is to have the arrows land at the correct range. You will learn to land them at the correct spot later. Pick up the arrows after that."

"Yesser", Roland sighed as the Recruiter laughed.

"Glad to have a student do the dog work."

Roland's fingers and arm hurt from the training. He ate with his left hand that night. The other 2 decided to spoil him a bit by letting him have meat and ale with his bread and water.

That was the daily routine; chop wood, carry it to Alterna, carry supplies back to the guild, exercise, bow training, picking up arrows. Night was sharpening the hatchet, maintaining bows and arrows, basic positioning in combat and once felling a small tree for more wood. On the fourth day, the routine was changed as Roland was made to go into one of the rooms (which was an armoury) and take out wooden mannequins. They were fitted onto the marker poles and Roland started training placing the arrows at specific points, at different ranges. Archery was meditative, Roland found out. There was deliberate practice designed to give the same result as often as possible. The distraction dulled the pain in his fingers, arms and back somewhat. His breathing wasn't as ragged as his body grew accustomed to the high-intensity work that was pulling a bow over and over again.

The last day was a surprise. Roland accompanied Rowland to the Hunter's Guild for joint archery practice. The range was separate from the combat pit, but Roland could hear the grunting and some clashing of weapons. Like any guild, trainees learning the Class and students learning skills were separated so Roland was with 2 Hunters at a range. The Hunter range used round targets, with the emphasis on hitting the centre. One hunter was fairly competent and could be let to train on his own. Another one was a girl named Yume who had a weird dialect, a slim build and orange hair with twin braids. The Hunter teaching her was patiently explaining the way a doting father treated a daughter.

"Observe, now you learn the difference between Hunter and Archer", said Rowland. Hunters carried machetes on their hip, and some kept their quivers on their backs, which by Archer standards was an inconvenience because an arrow had to be drawn above the head. They seemed to manage it well enough, though. They wore fitting leather, which suited their more agile close range fighting which included rolling. Anyway, Roland outperformed the Hunter, which annoyed the person somewhat. _The target is set so close,_ thought Roland. _Easy win._ This Yume however, could barely shoot at all, so the Master Hunter just said with a laugh that it was all hopeless. She laughed with him, although she wasn't sure what she was laughing about. _Damn, that ditzy personality makes her quite endearing._ Dinner was a solemn but somewhat lavish affair with roasted boar(brought from Hunter's guild), ale and better quality bread. Archers were few in number and each one trained formed a bond with the 2 Masters.

Rowland woke Roland while it was still dark. The Recruiter lit the fire. Breakfast was what was left of yesterday's feast. Rowland was outfitted as a novice Archer; the same worn leather bracer and archer's glove he wore, the same hatchet he used to chop wood with a belt to carry it on his left hip, the same brown tunic and pants that replaced his red T-shirt and cargo pants, a quiver of training arrows with the belt to hold them to his right hip, and a better bow.

"We usually let you use the same bow you trained in, but this old softie here got you a better one", said Rowland as he took a stave from the rack and let Roland string it.

"Wasn't this the one I brought yesterday?", asked Roland. The 2 men laughed. It was a used bow, but with slightly more draw weight than the one he trained on.

"Thanks", said Roland.

"Any questions before you leave?"

"One. What's the name of the skill I learned to graduate Archer?"

" **Chop**."

"Wait, what?"

"Well, it's what you do every morning. Any fool can chop wood. It's how I taught you to aim the hatchet that you can make firewood and kindling from a log. Use that in battle so you're not swinging that thing like some drunk tree feller."

"Oh you thought shooting at markers and mannequins is the same as shooting Armoured Orcs? Idiot boy", said the Recruiter as he gently slapped the back of Roland's head.

"All classes start with a short-ranged skill, Roland. The only exception is the Priest. Even the best student Mages have 15 meter ranges at best. Your bow training will help, but you will no doubt have to let it go and pull out that hatchet until your party has enough experience."

"Not the dullest with a bow, but oblivious to everything else, eh?", said the Recruiter, as the 2 men laughed at Roland.

"Now pull out a copper and flip." Roland flipped heads. The recruiter continued laughing, but at Rowland.

"Damn it. I chop wood today. Get out of here. Go on". It was a way of sending off, Roland realized. As he walked back to town, he wondered if other guilds were this close.


	6. Chapter 6

Coincidentally, everyone arrived at the meeting spot at the same time, though Brewary and Jakson found each other first and started walking together. After the initial fist bumps, nods, arm slapping and handshakes, the 4 stood in a circle to observe each other;

Brewary had a large, worn but serviceable 2 handed-sword. He wore chainmail that was patched too many times, with leather gloves and boots that looked just as patched and worn.

Demit wore priest robes, with blue lines on white and carried a staff with a weighted head. She was the least scruffy looking of the lot. Priest tunics were issued brand new, though the staff was not.

Jakson wore some kind of worn-out cloak. His arms would have been bare if not for the black shirt with the three white lines he wore underneath. There was a dagger at his waist.

"You good with that bow, Marksman?", asked Demit. She stood straight, both hands behind her.

"I did out-shoot a Hunter, but I trained only on mannequins, so I'll have problems with moving objects."

"Outstanding. Your gear good?", she said, looking at Brewary.

"It's hideous, the sword's too broad and heavy. Can't wait to start earning. Miss you too, Paprika".

"You good, Broski? Where you hit?". Jakson shook his head and pointed to his side. Apparently Thief training was quite abusive. But then Roland's arm and fingers did still hurt. There was a kind of weariness in the group. 7 days training was very physical for all. Except for Demit. She looked like she just came back from a vacation.

"It's gonna get in the way of your movement?". Jakson nodded again.

"Slow when fighting dagger", he said. Demit walked up, made a sign on her forehead, placed her palm over the injury and spoke;

"O Light, may Lumiaris's divine protection be upon you... **Cure**." Jakson's eyes widened in surprise, but he stood straighter. He nodded in thanks. Demit returned to the circle.

"Fireteam Alpha, we earn or we sleep in the dirt tonight."

The 2 Veterans and patrons of Sherry's Tavern suggested Mud Goblins as the best place to start. They headed to the forests south of Alterna, into the land that was known as Grimgar. Demit talked about her training;

"It was a fucking vacation, man. I was expecting some kind of test of faith, to be sleeping in the fucking mud and not get grub for 2 days, then some motherfucker would show up with food and say we'll get it if we just said 'no' to Lumiaris. Maybe get some fucking kid and some old fucker and make us choose who to save in an invasion or some shit, but it turned out to be classes", she laughed.

"Long-ass lectures where some old dude told us stories about Lumiaris and some No-Life King, and the code of the Priests. Few curveballs here and there when the priests ask questions to see if you're paying attention. Easy. We get to beat the shit out of each other with staves for a bit, then learned to heal whoever we hit, then meditation to restore magic. Wake up the next day for prayers, then more classes and on and on and on". She then told them of the No-Life King and the undead he created, of a big war of undead kings and humans and how those who died had to be cremated or risk being undead. There was an Undead Empire somewhere north which fractured and Alterna was born.

"Sounds like fun", said Roland.

"Fuck yea! To bear true faith and allegiance to Lumiaris. To fulfill my obligations in duty. To treat people as they should be treated. To live up to the Priest Guild values. To do what is right. To face fear, danger, and adversity. I got bunk and I got hot grub. Exactly what I signed up for, Hooah!"

She then asked Brewary what his training was like and he answered that all the testosterone in one place made him giddy, especially some hard-case named Renji. Damned good in a fight, Brewary was the only one of the trainees who could stalemate the man, but choose not to for very long because 'he was so adorable, maybe I'll try to tame him and make him do all the fighting for me'.

Roland said that he was made to carry wood to Alterna every morning, which Brewary found adorable. His arms hurt slightly from the exercise and pulling the bow. He had to explain the difference between a Hunter and Archer; A Hunter is more silent, used traps and could also fight close combat with all the added wilderness survival skills. Archers are a specialized support role that carried harder hitting bows and could shoot farther and even penetrate armour better. Hunters and Archers all practiced archery but Archers did it better over the long term.

Roland noticed a dark look pass over Jakson when he was asked, and he tried playing it down by just shrugging and making one of his sounds. He would say no more. He deflected the issue by saying,

"So everyone not allowed to talk guild training", which got some chuckling.

Mud Goblins are hideous creatures, some naked and others wore a loincloth. They travel anywhere between 1-4 at a time. They keep what little possessions they haved in pouches around their necks. Their armament is simple; the odd short sword, shivs, the occasional helmet or leather panel, an axe or buckler. Roland was relieved to see that none carried bows to shoot back. In the forest, chatter died down and eyes were open.

Demit looked at Jakson and he understood. He disappeared into the bushes as the party advanced as quietly as they could. Demit and Roland made very little noise, but there was the giveaway chainmail rattle from Brewary. He noticed it too and was visibly annoyed. He really did hate his gear.

As their name was Mud Goblin, it was sensible to seek rivers, streams, lakes or any place that was muddy. A quiet 'ssst' was heard from Jakson, who lead them to a stream. There was a lone goblin, peeing into the stream. Its sword was on the mud. Roland nocked an arrow and drew, the creaking of the bow causing the goblin to turn around. It was too late for the goblin as the arrow landed centre mass. With a gurgle, the goblin fell into the stream. It had to be followed a bit and Brewary fished it out by grabbing it by the arrow stuck to its chest.

"First blood, Roland. Well, that was easy", said Demit, giving him a thump on the back.

"Static target", answered Roland.

A whistle was heard from somewhere by Jakson. The party turned to see that 3 more goblins came out of the forest and charged.

"Contact! Give Roland line of fire!", said Demit. Roland realized she was left-handed when she held her short staff like a spear. Her left hand was at the base of the staff, with the right somewhere before the middle. Brewary slogged forward 2 steps and Demit stood beside him. There was space for one more to stand between Demit and the stream. That was Roland's clear line of sight. His arrow missed the goblin as they had this peculiar way of running that made their heads and small figures harder to target. The mud was a natural defence for them. Their lighter weight and wider feet did not bog them down, unlike booted human feet.

"Centre mass, damn it", Roland cursed himself. The first goblin to reach the line was against Brewary. He swung horizontally and missed as the goblin ducked under the sword and swung its own. It hit the chain mail and Brewary grunted in pain. The second goblin aimed for the gap between Demit and the river but was swatted and it fell in. Roland fired where it landed, hoping to kill but there was no blood. With a twirl of the staff to reposition, Demit jabbed the third one and held it at bay. From the way she handled the staff, it was like she had muscle memory of using something that was like a short spear. Brewary side-stepped and his sword swung again, upwards from the ground. This one hit Mud Goblin 1, and it staggered back with angry noises. An overhead chop from Brewary was narrowly dodged with a tumble. It entered Roland's line of fire so his arrow killed it. The last goblin was in a parrying match with Demit. It had some blood on its face from being battered, but it swung its weapon madly from her assault. Trying to back away, Brewary's blade caught it in the back and killed it. Roland felt a sharp pain in his right leg. With a scream of pain, he saw the goblin knife in his thigh. After being swatted into the river, the goblin swam upstream to flank the party. It clambered out of the water and jumped on Rowland, pushing him into the mud. Realising that its friends were dead, the goblin left the knife in Roland and bolted for the bushes, only to be kicked back into the mud by Jakson, who then landed on it with the full weight of his body behind a dagger.

"More coming", he said.

"Pick yourself up, soldier. Pick yourself up, now!". Roland rose with an adrenaline-infused grunt. He could stand but there was no walking till that dagger came out.

Goblins 4,5 and 6 were attracted to the noise of the fight. They were all armed with swords. Goblin 6 had a buckler. With the river being in the 12 and 6 o'clock position, the formation was now Demit at 11 o'clock, Brewary at 10 and Jakson at 9. Roland had no line of sight, so he dropped his bow and pulled out his hatchet. He heard a sound from the stream and looking up at him was Goblin 7, who was slightly larger and less silent than Goblin 2. Roland used **Chop** and aimed for the goblin's collarbone. As it was still half in the stream, it could not avoid the slow and heavy swing of the axe. He hauled it out of the stream by grabbing one of its ears. _These pouches better be filled with loot_.

Brewary parried the sword the goblin was swinging at him. Being bogged down by mud, it was hard to hit the more agile creature. Brewary was actually being hit for every 2 or 3 attacks he parried. His chain mail saved him from cuts, but his shins bled as the shorter goblin learned of the weakness and aimed lower. Demit was in the most trouble. Goblin 6's shield was protecting it. She was in a shoving match with the goblin, the staff keeping her away from its sword. The pain fuelling his frustration, he had an idea.

"Brewary, bow ready!". With a grunt, Brewary gave a wide slash that the goblin dodged easily and dropped to his knees. Goblin 5 gave a yell of victory, but dodging meant jumping back and now that the tall Brewary was kneeling, there was an opening. An arrow sped through and took Goblin 5 in the chest.

Roland couldn't take the pain anymore so he fell on his rear in the mud and grabbed his leg, trying to slow the bleeding. Abandoning his sword, Brewary threw himself at Goblin 4. The short sword and goblin nails raked uselessly at Brewary's chain mail as he shoved his leather gloved fist into the goblin's mouth so it couldn't bite down. Jakson appeared and killed it by stabbing its side. Brewary picked up his sword and trudged towards Demit, who was starting to tire. The buckler was battered, but held. Jakson headed back into the bushes. Brewary's swing tore the buckler from the goblin's hand. It avoided Demit's jab and Brewary's second swing. Demit's second jab caught it in the face. Seeing its friends dead, it turned and ran. The mud sucked at their feet so they couldn't pursue. It managed to run 10 steps before Jakson burst out of the bushes, catching the side of Goblin 6. He pinned down the sword arm and twisted the dagger. Goblin 6 struggled and bled away.

Thankfully the knife was some looted kitchen knife, its smooth surface making it easy to extract. Roland still had to bite on his tunic sleeve, though. Demit dipped her muddy robe sleeve into the stream and tried to clean it as much as possible before rinsing out the wound. She kept **Cure** on the wound for a few seconds, stopping and sealing the bleeding but there was still quite a bit of pain. Brewary's wounds needed cleaning too. One slow pass with **Cure** healed the shin that was more injured. Demit looked a bit dizzy.

"Got no more **Cure** , boys".

The other one had to simply be cleaned and then wait for the bleeding to stop. It didn't take too long, as did other scrapes they suffered. Meanwhile, Jakson gathered the goblin pouches and weapons.

"Everything can sell?"

"Only one way to find out, Sugar."

"You holding out anything on us, Broski?", asked Demit. Jakson looked offended.

"Nyet. Thief code not steal from party."

"What is the thief code, Sugar?"

"1 party, 1 thief. Not steal party loot. Not operate in other thief area. Not steal from other thief," Jakson explained. He and Demit were having a stare-off.

"Can we just go home?", asked Roland. He stepped between Demit and Jakson and headed for the pile of loot.

"At least get out of the mud", he picked up the pouches tied together.

"Just fucking around, Broski. Didn't mean nothing."

"Paprika, Sugar, play nice". Jakson cleared his nose and spat into some bush. Roland noticed a bit of blood. Demit was the last to walk out of the muddy bank, as she made a sign on her forehead for every goblin killed. Roland watched each goblin corpse. The one Jakson fought was bleeding quite badly at the wrist. Still, it managed to hold on to its weapon. More practice with the thief skill **Slap** and Jakson might be able to disarm anyone, provided the wrist wasn't protected.

The total loot of the first Mud Goblin by the stream and Goblins 1-7 amounted to 3 of the better looking goblin swords and the kitchen knife stuck into Roland. The pouches on strings yielded 6 silver coins with holes and 3 black animal fangs, also with holes. Roland then shot some fast moving, cat-sized rat with spiny fur who came out to nibble at the dead goblins. Its pack scampered as soon as the first one died. _Maybe that can sell_. When Roland went to fetch the dead rat, he saw that his training arrows could barely penetrate the spines of the creature. It was sheer luck that the arrow struck an inner organ and the rat died from internal bleeding.

No one bought food or drink for the journey so all they could manage was drinking at the stream (upriver from where the goblin was pissing, Brewary said he'd rather wait till Alterna) and the hungry walk home.

They were laughed at by quite a few at the markets. The goblin weapons were about as useful as scrap, which was already plentiful. The large rat was considered vermin. Its spiny fur could yield so many of what could be fishing hooks, needles and pins and it was easier to trap than hunt, so there was no demand for one. Still, one blacksmith and his tailor wife took pity on the muddy Fireteam Alpha and took the scrap metal and rat for 1 copper each, because 'bastard boy forgot to bring more scrap from the back and I got no bloody time -rest unheard-' and 'I could always use more pins, Masaka is such a playful child and he likes making darts from-rest unheard-'. _5 coppers for 3 bloody scrap metal swords, a kitchen knife_ and _a damned rat._ The coins and fang fetched much better prices, though. The silver coin sold for 30 coppers, which was quite disappointing. The party really did believe that the silver coin was considered 1 silver despite the hole in it. The fangs sold for a kingly sum of 1 silver each. In total, the earnings for Fireteam Alpha, on the very first day of Volunteer Soldiering was 4 silver, 84 copper. It was time to divide the spoils.

"Darlings, I'm really sorry I have to say this, we need to spend coins elsewhere this once", said Brewary.

"And why is that, soldier?"

"Now, Paprika's **Cure** won't last forever -no offence dear-, so we need bandages. I suggest we spend on bandages just this one time. Until it runs out, we can keep dividing the money equally as usual"

"Outstanding. There's also another matter. I'm sure you know a party pools resources to arm the Warrior?", Demit asked Roland and Jakson. It's what they learned at Sherry's, and what the 2 also learned from the Veterans. It was necessary but secretly not very pleasant to hear. After a long day's work out there bleeding and slogging in the mud, you came back to find that you get less than what was equal share.

With 10 copper deducted for the room and 20 more on clean fabric for bandages, the money was divided 5 ways, with Brewary receiving 2 portions. In total, it was short of a silver. _Well, at least the money pouch is full_ , thought Roland. He also realised he had never seen a gold coin before.

Jakson said he'd be back later, so they all ate and drank at the market. They were all exhausted. It wasn't long before Jakson came home with a drink in his hand. They slept through the night, not even hearing the arrival of another party of trainees.


	7. Chapter 7

"Damrow. Fireteam Alpha is going to Damrow", announced Demit. The suggestion was rubbished by the other three instantly. Based on what they learned before training, the best 2 places to start were south of Alterna and Damrow to the west of Alterna.

"You goddamn pussies. Didn't we clear the forest yesterday?"

"We killed 8. We don't know how deep that forest is and I'm sure more will crawl out of the depths. I say we hunt there regularly, maybe up to a week, till we know we're good at it", suggested Roland.

"8, or 9?". Jakson was squatting with his morning drink. He had bought a wineskin the previous day. There was another, which Roland hoped contained water. Ah, they would have to go shopping today. He needed a shave.

"Pretty sure it was 8, Sugar. Or was it 9?"

"It was more like 15. FUCKING. PUSSIES."

"How about we go deeper in without scouting the outskirts?", suggested Roland, gesturing to Jakson who would do the scouting.

"Logically, deeper in are more powerful Mud Goblins, and we get more fangs than coins". Jakson nodded to Roland's suggestion.

"He's right, Paprika. I was swinging wild yesterday. This hideous thing is too heavy", said Brewary. He wasn't comfortable with his sword at all. There were many different swords at the training racks to accommodate fighting styles of choice, Brewary explained. While they were all long and 2 handed, their blades were different widths and weights and curvature. The one issued at graduation was almost at the nub of its cutting edge, likely bought at bulk and at discount from the local market. Its blade was too wide, and centre of balance too different. With heartfelt apologies, he insisted his first purchase be another sword, not armour.

The earliest markets opened and they bought food for the journey, which they stuffed wherever would fit. West side's Tattan Bakery sold some kind of cheap bread that was likely the previous day's stock. Bags needed some bargain hunting and they didn't want to lose daylight. They agreed to hunt less and prioritise getting home and shopping for essentials.

With Jakson leading the way ahead, they cut into the forest deeper than the day before, taking care to make as little noise as possible.

Roland was right, Jakson confirmed when he gave one his soft hisses, alerting them to stop. There were better equipped Mud Goblins further in. Even better, these ones could be ambushed. Goblins 1-3 had sword and buckler. Goblin 4 had an axe. All wore thin metal caps. They were resting and facing a small lake around a small fire, with pit rats on spits roasting. To their relief, the ground wasn't muddy all the way, only where the water met the ground. A simple and brief plan was made.

Everyone silent enough crept into place. Brewary had double the distance to cover, as his chain mail stopped him from being really quiet and moving in to ambush. Roland could hear the strange language the creatures used. Luck really smiled on Fireteam Alpha that day as one made a joke and they laughed. It masked the sound of Roland's bow creaking. Goblin 2 was shot through the back. The laughter died abruptly as the other goblins processed what happened. _Please, please, please,_ thought Roland as he nocked another arrow and drew. At the same time, Jakson and Demit came out of their hiding places. Goblin 1 moved out of the way on time to grab its weapon and Roland's arrow zipped pass it. Screeching, other Goblins grabbed weapons, raised shields and ignored Goblin 2 clawing at its back, bleeding to death.

Goblin 1's buckler deflected Roland's second shot against it, buying time for Demit's staff to hammer its legs. It fell over and raised its shield to block Demit's staff. Demit pinned it in place with repeated hammering. Goblin 3 turned to help and tripped over an arrow sticking out of the ground. Roland cursed himself over his lack of skill at not being able to hit moving targets. Brewary arrived and it scrambled up quick enough to sidestep his overhead slash. Goblin 4 was using its longer axe handle to keep Jakson away with swipes. Resting his bow against a tree, Roland hefted his axe and headed for Demit. The goblin screeched in panic as it prioritized blocking Roland's **Chop** , aimed for its shoulder blades. Its small arms were forced down to its chest due to the heavy swing. Demit eventually managed to knock away its shield, and the 2 ganged up and killed Goblin 1. Demit turned to Goblin 3, making the priest hexagram for Goblin 1 and the bled out Goblin 2 as she walked, Roland in tow.

Goblin 3 was handling Brewary, although it too lost its shield as it was dumb enough to block the swing from his heavy 2-handed sword. It had managed to wound Brewary's thigh as well. There was quite deep cut. The chain mail only protected Brewary to the hips. _He needs something for the legs and head before anything else, but he'd rather have a new sword. Better leave him to it,_ thought Roland. Once Demit came in with her jabbing, Brewary brought Goblin 3 down, but not before some desperate charge that caught Demit at the side.

Outnumbered, Goblin 4 wanted to run when it realised its friends had died. Its mistake was turning to look, when Jakson's dagger caught it in the neck. With a wild swing that nicked Jakson's arm, it fled, bleeding heavily. Jakson followed it into the woods.

He returned with only the pouch string as Demit healed Brewary, having healed herself first.

"Need a medic, Broski?". Jakson shook his head. The wound smarted but the bleeding had stopped.

"Take a **Cure** anyway, soldier. I got a few more seconds and we're heading home". She used **Cure** on Jakson. _Was that an apology from her for yesterday?_ The total tally was 4 silver coins with holes and 4 fangs. It cheered everyone. They were excited to do some shopping so they ate on the walk home.

Back in Alterna, they hunted for goods. Bags were in dire need, so they bought used ones. Jakson's was largest, a serviceable, very patched leather bag. It was chosen for its size and an adjustable strap that could move it to the front like a large pouch or to the small of his back. Spare undergarments and shirts were also bought. Everyone needed a razor and the many grooming things like combs, brushes, polished bronze mirrors, sweet smelling oils and some kind of pomade for Brewary's hair. Skins to hold water were also bought. Gear wasn't cheap. _Hell, the whole bloody town isn't cheap_ , thought Roland. Back to the forest again tomorrow.

Last stop was Yorozu Deposit Company before an early dinner. The shopping took off most of their silver, leaving a sizeable amount in coppers which weighed down their pouches. As Brewary received extra to save up for arming, he needed to store coins. They took their turn in line at the lobby. The Fourth Yorozu looked at Jakson approaching.

"Krestovozdvizhensky", said Yorozu with all grace, every syllable in the right place.

"What business do you have with the Company today, and do you come with more lies?"

They tried Sherry's but it was uncomfortably full due to its popularity, so they found another called Ruai, which was quieter and had more town locals than Volunteer Soldiers. It served some kind of a grain wine that three of them found delicious, except for Jakson who wanted something stiffer. The tavern did distill the same grain they used for the wine and Jakson took to it immediately despite it costing double. Boar in soy sauce was served with some kind of pounded leafy vegetable. Morale was high.

"You guys wanna see something fucked up?", asked Demit. She raised her robe top and underneath was a black sports bra, the same brand as Jakson's clothing. It too was black and had 3 white lines at the side. Jackson and Demit laughed loudly. It was time to go before drunkenness set in for good and they got robbed blind at some alley.

It was before sunset that they settled in for an early night. At sunset they heard the party that came in the night before. From the sounds, they heard 4 males. One was obnoxiously loud and had a voice that grated on a person's patience. They had a good day too. Ranta-sama, it called itself. The moron was broadcasting its name as it took credit for a heroic kill of a mud goblin, saving the party from certain doom.

"That motherfucker better shut the fuck up right now. We killed like …a dozen… of the fuckers in 2 days."

"Maybe I should get over and see if I can tame that puppy", said Brewary. He moved to rise but fell back again with a grunt. The grain wine was good.

"Or not", he ended.

"I go see", said Jakson. He came back looking annoyed.

"They have Thief in party". He had peeked through their keyhole.

This Ranta kept talking for awhile before another voice threatened to make him spend the night in the toilets. Things quietened down. Later, a door opened and they left, presumably for a drink.

"Why does Yume hear Ranta's voice!?". There were some confused noises, mostly from this Ranta. Girls screamed and Yume started yelling in anger. Heavy footsteps of people making hasty retreat sounded along the floorboards and a door slammed shut.

"MOTHER. FUCKER. That's it. We're earning silvers anyway so tomorrow we're sleeping somewhere else". Everyone agreed. _Yume. Wasn't that the Hunter who couldn't shoot straight?_ Roland remembered the orange hair and twin braids and that endearing personality. Something stirred inside him. From the time he woke up till his first battle in the forest, life seemed like survival. Maybe that was why Demit still shared rooms with the guys. Now that he's fed, lying reasonably comfortably in a straw bunk, he allowed himself to just feel something other than his hate for the red moon and the pains of daily combat.

 _Seriously. Red?_


	8. Chapter 8

They were woken the next day by Ranta giving some kind of a war cry. He swore to empty the forest of Mud Goblins so no Volunteer after them would ever know Mud Goblins exist. Lord Skullhell would be so pleased with the pile of corpses, he'd make Ranta his lieutenant. He would then overthrow Skullhell in single combat and all the beautiful big breasted woman would lie at his feet. Naturally, the generous Ranta-sama would make room for the flat chested ones too. There was that obnoxious laughter.

"Damrow. I don't care what you pussies think. We're going to Damrow."

"Mm. Damrow", said Brewary.

"Damrow", said Roland. Jakson nodded.

Still, curiosity reigned and Fireteam Alpha decided it was amusing enough to stay quiet for now. They wanted to see what kind of unlucky fools would end up with this Ranta the Dreadknight. They dressed quietly. Ranta protested being dragged out to apologize for the previous night's incident. Naturally, he refused with an "I didn't see anything, quit whining". After more berating, they made to leave. There was a Warrior among them, due to his heavier footsteps and the rattle of chainmail and a heavy weapon accidentally bumping into a wall. Fireteam Alpha snuck out in full gear, headed to wash their faces, necks and mouth and followed the Volunteers a distance. It was worth the sacrifice of morning cleaning.

"Fucking hell, it's the teacher's-pet-pretty-boy Manato. You remember this dude?", Demit asked Brewary. Clearly he did. Manato was also asking around at Sherry's the same time as Demit and Brewary. He had a naturally likeable personality so people actually bought drinks for him. Some of what they learned that day were from listening in to his conversations.

"So training like usual, right? Then pretty-boy shows up. The Head Priest takes one fucking look and personally made it his business to train the guy. That old man's a real drill sergeant, so he grilled Manato from the get-go. Poor fucker. That's grooming, that's what. This Manato's the next head Priest of Lumiaris Temple. I mean, you gotta be extra special to deal with THIS motherfucker."

Ranta was in the dark armour of the Dreadknight. He had spiky red hair and swaggered as he walked. He basically broadcasted his position with his voice. The enmity between Skullhell and Lumiaris trickled down to the Volunteer Soldiers. There was an unwritten understanding so the Priests and Dreadknights tolerated each other, the Priests based on respect and compassion and the Dreadknights as Priests being one of the 2 essential classes for a party.

The Thief was dressed like Jakson, only his arms were bare and without the 2 water skins and bag. Jakson recognized the Thief, but only by his trade name, which wasn't for sharing with other Classes. His name was probably "Parupiro", as that was what Ranta was yelling at the Thief, ordering him to be a more reliable person.

The Warrior was taller than Brewary, broad and strong. He looked more suited to carrying and swinging the oversized swords the Warrior trainees were issued. His face had a dependable look to it, remarked Brewary. That was a gentle giant, and wouldn't mind snuggling up to him in bed at night. He did need some telling what to do, though. Still, he wasn't Renji the 'puppy'.

"I saw her only once, during a joint shooting", said Roland about Yume who was holding hands with a Mage. "She doesn't look like she knows what she's doing. Couldn't shoot her bow properly. Never saw her use that machete, though. The Hunt Master's fond of her too."

"Your Sergeant not good enough for you, Marksman? You eyeballing other chicks now?". That question came so quickly, Roland could only garble some sounds. Demit and Brewary laughed.

"Just fucking with you, soldier. Take it easy". Jakson put his arm around Roland's head.

The last member was the only member to notice Fireteam Alpha. She heard the laughter, looked back and quickly looked away. The Mage wore her wide-brimmed hat which she pulled lower to hide her eyes. She kept her body language small and looked like she was frightened of everything. Still, she watched her surroundings discreetly. Jakson motioned breasts and hips to Roland. He looked again and noticed that her Mage robe couldn't really conceal those soft thighs and breasts. He nodded a few times, which seemed to please Jakson. He put his water skin at Roland's mouth to give him a drink. _Ugh, that distilled stuff from yesterday. How does one drink that on an empty stomach?_ More importantly, _I bet this Ranta will give her a hard time,_ thought Roland.

"They're not doing too well, aren't they?", remarked Brewary. Observing them, they were dressed in trainee clothing too but were more unkempt. They had none of the accompaniments like extra belts, skins and bags that Fireteam had.

"Wait. That bragging last night. They killed only 1 Mud Goblin?", Roland asked. Jakson found that funny so he stopped to squat and laugh. The laughter spread throughout the group.

"Outstanding! Fireteam Alpha is going to Damrow. Hooah!"

"Hooah!", answered Roland and Brewary.

"Uraaa!", answered Jakson.

The Mage turned around again. This time she told the Hunter, who saw just another bunch of people and waved. The 3 men walking in front were oblivious, given the noise Ranta was making.


	9. Chapter 9

Damrow was 4km northwest of Alterna. Winding roads made the journey at just about an hour. From Sherry's, they learned that the goblins there were larger, stronger and better armoured. They carried loot bags instead of pouches on strings. While Mud Goblins travelled in groups of 1-4, these Damrow Goblins were anywhere from a lone character to patrol party to a garrison on the move. Go deep enough into New City and you find Hobgoblins. The masonry made fortresses or small bases. From the Veterans, they learned that the deeper you went, the more dangerous it was as natural ambush points existed everywhere. These goblins had fire cover from bows and crossbows, using beams, statues, towers, windows and rooftops as sniping and watching positions. Wealthier goblins had something resembling standardized uniforms. The Veterans told stories of inexperienced Volunteers who went in and came back without their support class after walking into ambushes or failing to cover retreats. The mug tapper actually lost a Mage from his first party.

Like moving in the forest, Jakson went ahead first. He disappeared into the run down Old City, which was what people called the southeast corner of Damrow. One minute in, they followed in the general direction Jakson went to, trying their hardest to walk quietly. As Roland was told that Mud Goblins didn't carry bows, he didn't care for looking up. Now, every elevated position was suspect. The world closed in on him. Anywhere he looked, he was expecting a creature's face behind a bow or crossbow aimed at him. His bow knocked at some pile of fallen masonry and caused a few stones to roll. In the silence of Old City and the town road they were standing in, those stones were loud.

The party stopped and Demit came over to Roland. She took hold of one of the belts crossing his chest and shook him slightly.

"Take a knee. Breathe, soldier." Roland realised his breathing was louder than usual.

"Take a drink". He sipped from his water skin.

"They could be anywhere."

"Yes, and if you panic, they'll find you before you find them."

"You okay there, Honey?"

"You think every rooftop and window has something pointed at you." Roland nodded.

"You think they could come from you in any direction". Roland nodded again.

"I know how it feels. I don't know how I know, but I know. You're in enemy territory. But we have a scout, and statistically, a fireteam with a scout won't be ambushed because the scout will spot the ambush first, understand?" Demit was speaking very softly, her voice a whisper. Roland nodded.

"So I need everyone, eyes around. With Broski out there, no one jumps Fireteam Alpha. Understand?" Roland nodded.

"So breathe, soldier. Take another drink". Her voice was still low, and she covered Roland from Brewary's view. Roland took a gulp.

"Paprika? Honey? What's going on?"

"Eyes front, soldier. You're on Broski/Goblin watch".

"I'm fine", said Roland as he stood up. His breathing had slowed.

"Buildings spooked me." Jakson then arrived, giving his signature soft hiss to indicate his presence.

"Goblin patrol. 3 goblins". There was little time to plan. Jakson went around a building and vanished. Demit gestured to Brewary at a place he could hide behind. He slipped something to Roland before stroking his chin and leaving. She then pointed to a place he could climb, before following Brewary. He found footholes in the stone wall of the building and climbed up. There was a low wall still standing he could hide behind and still see the street. He looked at Brewary's gift. It was some kind of candy, made very sticky by first boiling it down. It was then rolled in a bit of flour before wrapped in a small leaf. He had an idea, popping the candy into his mouth, then scrunching the leaf and throwing it to the centre of the road. Brewary and Demit saw him. Brewary gave him an incredulous look but Demit caught on quickly. She gave him a thumbs up.

They were fairly silent, with most of the noise made by what they carried. Leading Goblin 1 carried a sword and small wooden shield. Goblins 2 and 3 had short spears and some metal plates tied to them with ropes like armour. All wore helmets. With some kind of grunt and a sound, Goblin 1 saw the leaf, picked it up and sniffed it. That action halted the patrol, giving Roland what he needed. He drew his bow as he stood and loosed at Goblin 3. With the plate protecting the front, there was nothing to stop the arrow entering the chest from the side of the neck. Stepping back away from the view from below, he pulled out another arrow then felt something hit him in the left side. He couldn't suppress his yell. Goblin 4 was loading another dart into its crossbow. The fight had started below.

Angry, he tried pulling his bow to shoot the crossbow goblin. It cackled when it saw he couldn't. _It's part of the patrol_ , Roland realised. It travelled from rooftop to rooftop, using its small size to move about easily. Looking at Roland, it advanced menacingly so its next shot wouldn't miss. An arm and a dagger shot up and speared it from below. Screeching in pain, it fell off the roof to bleed to death on the road. Jakson came through an upstairs window, landed beside it and stabbed it again. _Fuck, it hurts. Did I just catch Demit's cussing?_ He sank to his knees. The edge of the floor gave way and he fell down below. He screamed in pain as the dart snapped when he landed.

Brewary had already ended Goblin 1. It lay in its own blood, its shield broken and its helmet crushed; Brewary had gotten lucky with his swing. Demit was using **Cure** on herself. She had taken Goblin 2's spear to the shoulder. It slowly knitted itself as the light of her palm covered it. The goblin was stalemating Brewary with its reach and lighter weapon. It managed to catch Brewary's sword with its blade. A few quick jabs, slices and butts made it past his defences. It planned to wear Brewary down enough to slip in a killing blow. Jakson joined in and it cackled some more. By moving, twirling and using both ends of its spear, it kept Brewary and Jakson at bay. Jakson already had a cut in his arm. Roland howled into his own tunic stuffed into his mouth as the dart came out. As Demit used Cure, he picked up the dart and noticed how lucky he was. It was very crudely smithed, just some metal hammered and rounded to fit a wooden stick. The fletching was ruffled quite badly. It was likely that Goblin 4 did aim properly, but the poor quality disrupted its aerodynamics. Demit cussed, wishing her **Cure** would heal faster.

"Get up, soldier. Up, now!". Demit picked her staff and joined the fight. Roland, sides still aching, climbed back up to fetch his bow. The fall had broken 2 arrows and ruffled the fletchings of the rest. Pulling his bow, he fired into the melee from above. The goblin's fighting made it a moving target, though still at the same spot. His first arrow hit the armour and the goblin cackled, catching the side of Demit's face with the butt of its spear. His second arrow hit flesh and it screeched. Brewary's sword came in, which it dodged but a hand was severed. It turned, tackling Jakson while dodging Demit's downward strike with her staff. It ran a few more steps before Roland's third arrow caught it in the thigh. It fell, screeching louder.

"Damn it, was aiming centre mass", said Roland. Jakson killed Goblin 2 as it tried to crawl away.

"Remember what happened in the forest when Mud Goblins started screeching?", asked Brewary. Demit was in pain, her hands shaking and there were tears in her eyes. Still, she managed to mutter the prayer and used **Cure** on herself. She then turned to heal Brewary's heavier injures. Everyone's breathing was laboured.

Right on time, Roland saw a Goblin head pop out. It was so busy looking at a Priest healing a Warrior that it stood there and pointed its crossbow for a shot. Goblin 5 was killed by an arrow to the face before it could shoot. As long as the target stood still, Roland could hit it.

Goblin 6 and 7 rounded the corner. Goblin 6 wore chainmail and helmet with sword and shield. Goblin 7 only had a spear. Goblin 6 covered the advance with its shield, catching one of Roland's arrows. Brewary charged, covering Demit with his form. Goblin 7 stabbed but Brewary caught the spear and held on, swinging his blade one handed. Goblin 6's sword came in to punish Brewary with a brand new wound. Jakson who had hid behind another building came from behind and stuck his dagger into Goblin 7. Goblin 6 changed posture and the dance began again. It used its shield and sword to parry, block and attack, slipping in whenever a chance presented itself. The angle and line of sight were wrong so Roland watched for any more Crossbows before shouldering his bow and pulling out his hatchet. He joined the encirclement of Goblin 6.

By coincidence, Roland's **Chop** came with one of Brewary's **Rage Blow**. **Rage Blow** was powerful, but uncontrollable on less practice and heavier weapons, which is why he didn't really want to use it and risk over-swinging and being exposed. The goblin caught the 2 attacks with its shield but the impact drove the arm and shield into its own face, giving it a moment of pause. Fireteam Alpha vented their anger on the goblin.

"Grab everything. Evac now", said Demit. They scrambled for goblin bags while Demit made the hexagram sign for every dead goblin she saw. Still bleeding and breathing heavily, they left the site. Finding a place to hide some distance away, Demit spent her last seconds of **Cure** on Brewary's sword wound and the long slash Jakson took across the chest. The rest were to be bandaged. There would be a lot of blood to wash off and clothes to mend that night. They spent awhile drinking and eating in silence, their muscles sore. Only Roland wasn't limping on the way home, though he was still holding his side. Jakson drank all his alcohol to dull the pain.

The bags yielded a small fortune of Silver (with no holes this time), bones with symbols, some trinkets, bits of metal, coloured stones and fangs (also with no holes). Goblins 1 to 7 yielded almost 20 silvers. Not wanting to be around Ranta from Team Manato, the party decided that rooms would be individually paid for. Costs for bandages were deducted and the haul divided into 5, down to the copper. Sewing kits, metal rings, pieces and strips of leather, fabric and whetstones were bought.

Demit promised she would meditate to replenish magic and cast more **Cure**. They would meet at Ruai that night for dinner. They spent the rest of the day looking for rooms. Demit found one that only took in women. Brewary found one across another that had a veranda with well-dressed men. It was lucky Demit wasn't there or she'd balk at the price and accuse him of spending the "defence budget" portion of his earnings. Jakson said that rooms were stupidly expensive in this part of town. He suggested they looked for rooms at the border of West Town, which wasn't the slums of West Town proper and not stupid expensive like the ones Demit and Brewary used. He also asked if they didn't mind sharing, to keep costs low. Roland agreed. Thinking about it, he'd like company.

Their room also used a shared bathroom, but the toilet was a hole into the sewer and the establishment hired a cleaner to clean the floors, unlike the Volunteer Soldier Lodgings' wooden bucket toilet and dirt floor. The beds needed sheets, but at least they didn't have to sleep on straw. Together, the rate was 15 coppers a night each. The proprietor agreed to even rent out at monthly rates, provided it was paid for in advance, with warning that no matter which rate was chosen, on the sunrise after the last day he had the rights to everything in the room. Jakson offered to pay for the rooms that night.

"I not see goblin on roof."

"It didn't see you either, or you'd be shot."

"Thief job is not be seen, droog. I not see goblin. But you, you saw goblin."

"Tell you what, man. I'll buy first round drinks tonight". Jakson would like that very much. That night, Demit ran **Cure** over everyone, no exceptions. She looked like she had been a bit hard on herself in her bedroom. The mood improved when the pains left their bodies, and when Brewary said that maybe he could afford a better sword. They agreed that the next morning was for getting better gear.


	10. Chapter 10

Brewary showed off his new sword. The Zweihander was different from his issued sword by being slimmer and having a longer handle. It's most interesting feature was the 2 bits of metal sticking out of the sides, roughly 3/4 down its length. Below the protrusions, the blade wasn't sharpened.

"See, darlings? These parrying hooks serve as a smaller crossguard to stop enemy weapons. And if I ever get in a tight place-", he stood at a stance and grabbed the unsharpened length with his off hand,

"- I can do this". His sword acted like a short spear.

"You sure that can still cut?", asked Roland. That sword looked very well used. _Too used, actually._

"That's the sad part, honey. This sword is almost to the end of its glorious life". He indicated the steel cutting edge attached to the softer metal core. It really was worn out. That would buy maybe a month or 2 before needing to be replaced.

"But I assure you my dears-", he said, gracefully whirling it with one hand,

"- the only way to beat me now is to shoot me, which is where you come in, Honey. Don't want anything else entering me other than the finest men in Grimgar". He made a rather inappropriate sound that ended in a laugh.

"Outstanding", said Demit. She wore a padded jacket with string to tie it at the front. Her staff was changed too, this time it was one with a heavier head, and balanced perfectly in the middle with a weighted butt. The jacket wasn't as good as something brand new because it was patched many times with different materials, compromising the padding and multi-layer fabric protection. But even those were cruder pads and layers slapped on and sewn. When it was brand new, it was likely from a trainee tailor who only had access to excess materials.

Roland wore the same jacket she did, and just as patched. They collectively haggled with the vendor saying that they would both buy, provided there was a larger discount.

He selected his worst, most ruffled training arrows, left them somewhere for some other person to pick (shops didn't want trash training arrows that trainee artisans made), then purchased some bodkins. These are arrows with slightly heavier needle-like heads meant for punching through armour. Naturally, poorer quality bodkins existed but he wanted his specialist ammunition. Since most Hunters used broadhead arrows, bodkin prices were even higher due to rarity. Broadheads could be just cut from scrap plate and reforged into shape before sharpening and attaching to the wooden shaft, making them easier to mass produce. The needle-like Bodkins had to be forged and tapered manually piece by piece. Its length meant that properly centering the tips would take more time, especially the higher quality ones that needed steel tips. He paid the price without complaint. Those bodkins will come in handy. He was sure of it. He replaced his quiver with one that had a divider so the arrow fletching would not touch each other. It also had a cover so they won't be damaged by accident while moving. He then bought more training arrows to fill the quiver. Altogether, he had a sheaf of 20 training and 4 bodkins. He gently took one out and showed the group, explaining the difference between his training arrows, broadheads and bodkins.

"AP rounds!", said Demit.

Jakson bought padded leather panels for his chest, thighs and shins. There were also leather and metal bracers for his arms. Since didn't need to buy a weapon, he could afford some metal in his armour.

"Fireteam Alpha will now field test their weapons at Damrow." The group cheered playfully and laughed, turning the heads of quite a few at morning market.

Goblins 1 and 3 charged, spears leading. Brewary's swipe scythed through the 2 spears, and the return swipe took off Goblin 3's head. Its metal plate and helmet did not protect the neck. Goblin 1 used its sheared off spear shaft and thrusted. The attack was deflected by the Zweihander hooks and with a slight twist and a thrust, Brewary stabbed it in the face. Demit pummeled Goblin 2's shield, bashing and shoving with her staff, keeping it at a distance. Roland kept an eye out, looking out for crossbows other than the dead Goblin 4. Seeing how quickly its friends died, Goblin 2 was ready to run. Brewary stood behind it. Surrounded, it wailed desperately under its shield to its death. The new gear was working. Elated, Demit made the hexagram, found something to climb and yelled into Old City;

"Fireteam Alpha, motherfuckers! F.T.A.! F.T.A.! F.T.A.! F.T.A.!"

"Demit, what the hell?", asked Roland. Brewary was laughing loudly.

A goblin screeched some kind of warning in the distance. 2 heads popped out. Roland fired at Goblin 5 but it had enough time to duck away. Goblins 5 and 6 fired their crossbows but missed. Demit jumped off with an 'oh shit' and laughed. Roland jumped off too and relocated. Goblins 7,8,9 and 10 advanced. 9 and 10 had those plates with ropes, shields and swords. 7 stood between the 2, spear out and used the shields as cover from Roland's arrows. Goblin 8 followed behind as some kind of a rear guard. It only had a sword and chainmail. Jakson appeared from the back and stabbed Goblin 8. The chainmail stopped the blade going all the way in but it still hurt the goblin. It swung its weapon wildly and Jakson deflected it with his bracer.

Brewary's first swing was targeted at the spear, taking off the metal head and shortening its length. The shielded goblins came in contact with Brewary and Demit, ending the protection of Goblin 7. With its spear broken and shortened, it tried to use the pointed bit to stab Demit but was killed by an arrow.

"Where are they? Where are they, dammit..." said Roland. He relocated again, crossing the street. On the way across, he saw Goblins 5 and 6. 5 aimed at Jakson and 6 was aiming at Demit. Goblin 6 saw an Archer which was a greater threat, pointed its weapon and fired at the same time as Roland loosed at Goblin 5. The dart slammed into his shoulder, staggering him. Goblin 5 fell off the window eaves unto the street. Goblin 6 ducked behind cover. _I can't believe I got shot again_ , thought Roland. Goblin crossbows were weaker so the dart didn't penetrate his padded jacket, but it hurt like hell. It would bruise tomorrow morning.

"Come out, goblin!", yelled Roland, twisting the dart left and right and extracting it. Brewary used **Rage Blow** on Goblin 10, knocking its shield out of its grip. Channeling the momentum of the swing into a twist, he drove the sword into the goblin's face. Pushing forward a few steps, he redirected the sword and cut into the back of Goblin 9's legs. Hamstrung, it fell to its knees and its head was caved in by Demit's staff with repeated hits.

"There's another crossbow," said Roland, pointing a safe place out of the field of view. Roland climbed again and found it, hiding behind some rubble, loading the next dart. It would have remained hidden if Roland hadn't relocated. Goblin 6 was ended quickly. Arrows really did fly straighter if one took the trouble to look after its fletching.

Goblin 8's sword slipped out of its fingers. Jakson had used **Slap** on its wrist too many times while protecting himself with the bracer. Still, the goblin did land a deep cut on his side. Knowing that goblins ran when beaten, he tackled Goblin 8, pushing its head down with a bracer and stabbing the neck. He looked at Demit.

"Next time not make noise like that". Demit and Brewary laughed.

"No, seriously. Don't attract attention like that", said Roland.

"Field test successful, am I right?", she asked Brewary. He was really happy with his new weapon, and rightly so. They high-fived. Roland and Jakson did not share that enthusiasm.

"C'mon, man. Your armour's good", she continued, mentioning the hole where the dart had entered. Jakson walked up for his heal. He was shaking his offhand, sore from blocking the goblin sword.

"Noisy like Ranta urod", he said.

"Hey, dick move, Broski".

"He's right", said Roland.

"We attracted an even larger patrol. What if there's a goblin garrison set up out there?", he said gesturing deeper into the city. Demit and Brewary just dismissed it.

"What's a Fireteam Alpha anyway?", asked Roland.

"That's what you get when you form a group of 4, right?". She wasn't too sure either.

"What is Hooah?", asked Jakson. Demit was interrogated. What was 'AP', 'Hooah', 'Fireteam', 'PMC', 'PTSD' and all the other weird words. Demit just told them all to 'shut the fuck up'. They gathered loot into a single bag while Demit made a sign for every goblin, then moved somewhere else sheltered to eat.

"Fuck, I forgot to tell you guys something. PTSD Mary's living at my place."

"What's PTSD?"

"When someone gets broken by some bad tragedy or something, fuck off. Anyway, I saw her sitting at the porch, looking out with her thousand-yard stare". She gestured into an imaginary distance, her face poker-straight.

"Oh dear. What happened to her?"

"Dunno. Next time I head to the Temple, I'll ask around". They ate silently. Roland noticed that Jakson ate poorer quality food, preferring to spend his coin on alcohol. You'd see him eating the hardtack and bread from West Town's Tattan Bakery, but his second drinking skin is always hard drink. They then moved in deeper for more goblins.

That was their routine for the next few days; wake up, exercise and bathe, then breakfast, off to Damrow, return in the evening with loot to divide into 5. There were situations where Roland had to fire his bodkins, to great effect. Still, their coins grew with the loot and arrows were easily replenished. He was considering changing all training arrows to broadheads.

One day, another party walked their road.

"Fuck me sideways", said Demit. Team Manato had arrived.

"So they learn kill more than 1 goblin", said Jakson. The group laughed.

"Time to switch hunting grounds, goblins are getting boring anyway", said Demit.

"I think we should go learn something new", said Roland.

"New badges too", said Brewary.

"Also gather intel", said Demit. The group collectively sighed and turned back.

"Eh, after what we did to the place, they're fighting lone goblins, the fucking pussies who hide when we show up", said Demit. Brewary laughed. A new plan was made. They'd go purchase badges, take the rest of the day off and go back to their guilds tomorrow. They sighed again as the cost of everything will reduce them to only a few silvers.

They stopped at Yorozu Deposit company. She was there and remembered their faces as usual. The only difference was her mentioning Jakson's name. While she says all her customers' names, she never starts a sentence with it, unless it's with Jakson.

"Krestovozdvizhensky. What business do you have with the Company today?"

Demit, Roland and Jakson emerged with their silver badges, having paid 20 silver each. Jakson was charged for stealing a bottle from Red Moon Office, with interest, 1 whole silver.

"Now run along little kittens, while I play with Brewary here". They all said 'Chief' as they exited the building. They'd spend the day freely and gathering intel before going to their respective guilds next day, finally meeting up for a demonstration. Roland had been at work since day 1. It felt strange having the afternoon off. He took the opportunity to observe Jakson while hanging out with him at their lodging balcony. He squatted and hummed songs, pausing to drink. Sometimes he would tap Roland's arm and point out some pretty girls or men that looked out of the ordinary. Jakson never did say much, but was generally generous with his drinks. He seemed to drink a lot but never got drunk. Living with him, you got used to the smell of alcohol. Actually, one night he rolled in a small barrel of warm liquid that made the room smell awful the next day. Once the room was properly ventilated and the drink was strained (with the help of Roland and a cheese cloth), then chilled in the cellar for 2 days, it turned out to be a tasty but weaker than beer drink that Jakson named 'Kvass'. Raisins and some other sweet dried fruit made the drink even better. Demit and Brewary were not told about the drink as they childishly hoarded it for themselves.

That evening, they met the Veterans again and offered to pay for drinks. This new round of information demanded top shelf drinks, so the happy bartender slid aside a board on a shelf, revealing the special stock of drinks he had.


	11. Chapter 11

The Recruiter and Rowland were glad to see Roland again the next day. The cat was still sitting on the roof. There were no new archers since he came along. He learned **Quick-eye** , which was what Hunters also learned. It granted more range and accuracy. By knowing the arc of a projectile, one could more easily dodge ranged attacks. Its greatest benefit was that Roland could now shoot moving targets better. The three men had a shoot-off. Roland was nowhere near as good and accurate as the other 2, but they were impressed at his progress all the same. Still, he had to start the day by chopping wood and there were a lot of arrows to pick up.

Fireteam Alpha met for their demonstration.

"With **Quick-eye** , I can shoot moving targets better, but I can't guarantee every shot will hit." Brewary hurled a broken bucket from a nearby trash heap which he shot with a training arrow easily.

"They finally taught me how to use this thing", said Demit. She used **Smash** and there was a satisfying crack as the staff met the stone wall she was aiming for. The stone broke slightly. There was force beneath that strike.

"Turn around", said Jakson. They did and they felt a jab in turn at certain points of the back.

"With **Backstab** , I kill instant. But not all time accurate."

"Poke me, Paprika", said Brewary to Demit. She oblidged, stabbing with her staff and he caught her weapon with his own, wound it around and stopped the blade an inch from her face. She grinned instead of flinching. _Crazy bitch_ , thought Roland. Jakson shook his head.

"Don't you already fight like that?", asked Demit.

" **Wind** isn't the same as catching it with the hooks, dear", said Brewary. Demit repeated the move slowly.

"Catching the weapon means still having to push it forwards, and an enemy who can fence only needs adjust his aim to get me". Brewary stopped mid-movement, allowing Demit to adjust her aim and still go for his face.

"With **Wind** , I wind the weapon and push it aside, so my enemy needs to pull back the weapon before using it again." He wound Demit's staff and pushed it off centre, forcing Demit to pull the weapon back. For another hit, she would have to jab again, raise the weapon or swing from the sides.

"Outstanding. We sure we all know what we're capable of?", asked Demit. Everyone nodded.

"Now there's the issue of hunting grounds".

From Sherry's (by Demit) and Britanny (by Brewary), Cyrene Mine was the place to go. Located 8km North-west of Alterna, it holds a small Kobold Kingom that had taken up residence. The mine is tiered, connected by elevators at various places. There are at least 10 levels, and not many have made it to the bottom. Kobolds look like giant dogs on 2 feet, they explained. Their talismans, ear and nose rings can be sold. They carry smithed weapons compared to Damrow Goblins' looted or crudely made gear. Their hierarchy meant that further down were more powerful kobolds with followers, so a small scale fight is to be expected from the usual party skirmish.

From the Veterans, there is Deadhead Watching Keep inhabited by Orcs. They are roughly the same height as humans, but broader, and stronger with green skin. They dye their hair bright colours and live a martial life that emphasised strength. They carry gear just like humans do, but their parties are generally smaller due to their combative nature, unless rallied by a boss. Mug Thumper veteran said that they occasionally chose to raid Alterna. In response, campaigns to retake the keep are done, which were successful but never permanent as the orcs would simply return and retake it. Mug Thumper and Arm Poker had campaigned against Orcs before, with Arm Poker losing 2 party members. Arm poker veteran said that you needed an army to assault the keep, but parties could fight Orc adventurers, patrols or outcasts that fell out of orc society. For currency, they use crystal buttons that sold depending on size, the largest being 5 silver and cheapest 5 copper. Naturally, they carry more than one button, just as humans carry more than one coin. Occasionally, an orc weapon that had good value and could be carried by humans can be sold. Those are pricey weapons with killing power, sitting on the 'Specials' racks and shelves of the more established vendors. They are popular among the largest Warriors and the more brutish Dreadknights.

Jakson had a different idea.

"Damrow New City."

"You think there's good pickings there, Broski?". Jakson tapped Roland's arm and gestured for him to explain.

"The veterans did caution against Cyrene. The elevators made natural choke points that were easier to guard. Also, if you go deeper in, you end up dry and cold camping and set up watch. It's all underground, so places to hide in are limited. You have to kill everything you fight or an alarm will be raised, pulling the whole floor to you".

"Oh, shit. PTSD Mary", said Demit.

"What about her?", asked Roland.

"I asked around the Temple. Some of her party died in Cyrene because she ran out of magic for **Cure**. Her friends couldn't be buried so they're now roaming as undead." She made the hexagram sign.

"It was some big fucker named Deathspots that fucked them up, the Priests told me. Whoever made it back disbanded and she became solo for hire, jumping from party to party, never fitting in", she continued.

"Which was another warning from the Veterans. Deathspots has caused enough kills to warrant bounty on its head. Add it to the enclosed underground, you fight your way out or die trying", replied Roland.

"Cyrene. We're going to Cyrene". The three said 'No' right away.

"C'mon you pussies, we can take 'em."

"Did you find out what skills she had when they entered the mine, Paprika? Was her party the same size as ours or larger?"

"C'mon man, I can't believe I'm hearing this bullshit from you", said Demit to Brewary.

"Why not? So far all we know is we're better than Team Manato. They have 1 of each class while we're only 4. There's no other new team we can compare ourselves to. I'm keeping an eye out for Renji and I have no idea where my little puppy trains. If he were in the mines, Deathspots would be dead. So likely he's fighting the Orcs or the Undead even farther north, and his team has 5 members."

"He's right. I get pressured as soon as 2 crossbow goblins show up. I pin one and the other one still gets to fire."

"That's why we got kevlar, soldier", said Demit, thumbing her padded jacket. Jakson rose from squatting.

"I scout New City."

"Thank you so much, Sugar". Jakson slapped Roland's arm.

"Come. Learn walk quiet". The 2 made to leave.

"I ain't done with you fuckers. Don't you turn your back on me!"

"Paprika, we're not chancing Deathspots with 2 skills."

"Shut the fuck up, faggot!"

"That's cute, Xena Warrior Princess. Bite me. Only girl in the family and everything to prove…" the rest was unheard as the distance grew. 2 streets away, there was still the faint sound of Demit yelling. They returned to their lodgings and had a mug of Kvass each. Jakson shook his head and started speaking another language. Roland wore a cape he bought at the market at Jakson's recommendation. It was somewhere between green and brown, making it harder to see when keeping still in bushes. Given that New City would likely be less maintained than human cities, the stones would've been overgrown and dirty.

Team Manato was on its way as usual. They could be heard before they were seen because of the noise Ranta was making.

"You remember Damrow tall tower, Old City?", asked Jakson. Roland nodded.

"We look first. Walk low. Not hold breath. Not step on stick and small stone". Roland nodded. Jakson made far less noise than Roland, but they were quite quiet as Jakson's leather armour panels did not rub against each other and Roland only had his jacket. He took extra care to not let his bow stave or hatchet handle bang into anything. Once, Jakson had to remind him to breathe naturally. Team Manato's strategy was to have their Thief scout while the rest hid somewhere. Jakson with his knack for streets and alleyways led Roland around the team to a half broken tower. Apparently, its stone steps were still intact, as a Goblin 1 was seen perched at an opening at the top. Below the tower are Goblins 2 and 3, in spear and Chainmail. Like most Damrow Goblins, they wore helmets.

"I shoot the crossbow goblin, then we take one goblin each", suggested Roland.

"Little change, droog. Shoot crossbow, hide. Axe when goblin come look. I take other goblin". Roland nodded.

"No yelling F.T.A.". Jakson stifled a laugh and pushed Roland's head.

"Count 'twenty one-thousand'". He turned a corner with barely a sound.

"One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand….". At the twentieth one-thousand, he pulled his bow as quietly as he could and loosed. Goblin 1 fell on Goblin 3. There were confused noises. Spears were picked up and chatter was heard. Roland quietly leaned his bow and pulled out his hatchet. There were pattering sounds approaching. A goblin stood at the opening and made a scary sound, as if to scare anything inside into moving. Roland used **Chop** blindly around the corner and caught Goblin 2 in the chest. It stumbled backwards with a choking sound. The axe did not penetrate but it still broke something. He rounded the corner and readied another **Chop**. Jakson had used **Backstab** on Goblin 3. He got lucky as it went through the chain mail and killed it outright. Goblin 2 was still struggling to rise, stunned by the hatchet. Roland used another **Chop** , then another, then another. It finally stopped moving. _Damn chainmail_ , thought Roland.

Jakson dragged one goblin and picked up its spear. Roland dragged the other. They then hauled Goblin 1 into the small room at the base of the tower. They looted what was worth about 8 silvers total. Climbing the tower, they raised their heads gently to look around, taking care not to be too close to the openings in the walls where the sun could shine on their faces. Team Manato had ambushed a sleeping goblin. It was gruesome to watch as the goblin struggled. They didn't kill as quickly as Fireteam Alpha. Ranta cut off the goblin's ear. _Is that how Dreadknight Vice works?_ They then saw New City. There was no going through Old City to get there. A line of buildings, towers and existing walls made some kind of fortress marking the border of Old and New City. Jakson sighed and whispered maybe they could just go around Old City, then gestured to leave.

There was more walking to be done.


	12. Chapter 12

It was night when they arrived back at Alterna. They stood facing the housing across Brewary's lodgings. It was upscale, sterile and sounded joyful. There was a guard at the door. 2 sweaty, hungry and tired men with muddy knees weren't going to be let in. Jakson tapped Roland's arm and pointed to a nearby stall.

"Buy flower", he said, pointing at a nearby stall.

"What, why?"

"Ask nicely, explain, say 'please', give flower."

"If I'm buying a flower, you're buying a flower", Roland said. Jakson shrugged.

"Goblin money pay for flower". He pointed up, where some men were leaning against the veranda railings, drinking and talking. They wore red.

"They wear red. Buy red flower". They bought the middle priced ones then turned and approached the door.

"Excuse us. We're looking for Brewary. We're sorry to come at this time but there's no avoiding the urgency of the situation, if you could let us in? We'll be out before you know it". _Oh man, his lips are red_. The guard sniffed in contempt before another voice from the veranda said;

"Let them in, Bobo sweetie. How could they possibly have figured out the night's theme?" He stood aside and they entered, greeted by another in red clothes with puffy arms and white powder on his face. He took the flowers and arranged them in a bouquet nearby. From the looks of it, there were cheaper flowers there. _Guess Jakson's drinks are on me tonight._

"Oh my, 2 strong men, fresh from the fight, coming with flowers. Hunting was good I assume?". The man did not wait for them to answer before handing them wine.

"Little pick-me-up. Oh dear, you do pull that bow, don't you?". He was feeling Roland's arms. _Play along... just play along..._

"Need to keep the darts off Brewary while he fights", answered Roland, an answer that pleased the man.

"And that's why you're Honey and Sugar, such reliable men". He laughed at their reaction, then ushered them on.

"Do be gentle, Brewary had a fight and some very mean things were said to him, and he's ever so sad". They found him on a long couch, his head resting against the bare chest of another man. His hair was being stroked. _Oh hell no, he's faking it. He's enjoying the attention._ Seeing the two, Brewary cheered up and so did the few around him.

"Honey, Sugar. Look at you. Oh, poor things. Did you find a way in? Feed the poor things will you?", he said to an attendant. He sat and sipped wine while Roland and Jakson told him what they found. The dinner and wine they had would've cost at least a silver per meal. Jakson filled both skins with wine before leaving.

"What about Demit, we need to tell her too."

"Well then tie a note to one of those pretty arrows of yours and fire it through her window."

Demit's lodgings were downright impossible to enter because they were males. In the end, they stopped a passing Priest and asked for help. She was quite good looking with blue eyes and hair. The only problem was she didn't have the kind of… _kindness_ … that Priests had. Even Demit with all her cussing had this look that she was one of the good guys. This priest had a poker-straight, unsmiling face that had its own kind of sad beauty under the red moon. Still, she didn't seem a bad person when she led them to the veranda, said 'Wait here' and left. She ignored Roland's repeated 'thank you' and 'sorry for disturbing'. An angry matron's head poked out from behind curtains and kept an eye on them. Demit finally arrived, carrying a small bag.

"Fuck you motherfuckers doing, sending PTSD Mary at my ass for?", She said it carefully, looking around for Mary. Jakson was amused.

"Mary is pretty woman."

"We did not know that was Mary. C'mon man, long day."

"So tell me I'm right. We're heading to Cyrene Mines and dragging Deathspots's ass down here as proof."

"No, Jakson found a way into New City-"

"How? Place's a fucking fortress. That's how they keep the ghetto goblins out."

"Wai- You didn't bother to mention this to us? We were sneaking around Old City avoiding patrols like Team Manato", answered Roland. Jakson nodded in agreement.

"How can you not know, soldier? If you set up base, you set up where it's most defensible, with overwatch and overlapping fields of fire. You entrench, you set perimeter patrols and you control the region". Roland held up his hands.

"Alright, alright, ju-just… , what the hell's going on?", asked Roland. Demit was still fuming.

"Okay. Okay. Just pissed off is all. You told him yet?"

"Yea."

"How'd you get in?"

"We asked."

"Seriously?"

"Yea. We just asked and they let us in". They weren't going to tell the full story.

"Motherfucker. I came back to make him understand why we should go to the Mines but faggot den won't let me in". Now it was her turn to raise her hands at their reaction.

"Alright, alright. Sorry". She opened the bag. There were some cheese, nuts and bread wrapped in cloth. Jakson handed over a drinking skin and they shared a small meal.

"This came from over there?", asked Demit. It was good wine. Jakson nodded. Roland took that chance to tell what they found out that day. The 2 who did the scouting shared the same opinion that it was feasible. Plus, it's very likely that the New City Goblins could yield more loot.

"One week, maybe 2 or longer, then we get better gear, hit the Guilds and go straight for the Orcs. Sounds good?"

"Yea whatever. Fuck it."

"You're still Fireteam Alpha leader, you know? We're just not the kind that will simply agree to walk into any kind of fight", explained Roland. Demit just nodded, muttering something about 'pussies'.

"Want to talk about it?". Jakson looked like he'd rather just leave but Roland gently nudged his knee under the table. Demit talked for about an hour about what happened. It was from her point of view, but they had an inkling of the exchange. Roland was glad they didn't come to blows. Demit would never have won and Roland would never want to be on the same team as a team-killer. She looked better as they bade each other good night.

"Chuvak, why poke sleeping bear?", asked Jakson.

"Call me crazy, but I think… in the life I had before coming to Grimgar… I had a girlfriend. She always cheered up if I just let her talk". Jakson did not reply, so Roland asked;

"Do you ever think of what you were like before all this?"

"Da. Remember little sister, maybe brother. Not remember name, only calling 'Cheburashka'. Remember friends. Not remember face, but remember drinking."

"C'mon, let the rest of the goblin money pay for more Kvass before the markets close. No way we're letting them have coin after all the trouble we went through". Yes. Jakson would like to make more Kvass.

"What's a 'chuvak'?"

"What you say when talk to friend."

"What's a 'droog'?"

"Also friend".

Roughly put, rye bread is charred slightly and left in hot water for hours with sweet things like dried fruit and raisins. When it has cooled to warm, it is strained with a cheese cloth and yeast is added with more sweet things. Once it has properly cooled, it is strained for the last time, barrel tightly sealed and left in a cellar for 2 days.

Something like that. Roland was too tired to try and remember anything.


	13. Chapter 13

They met the next day. Brewary and Demit still had some resentment, and an awkward silence hung in the air. Demit took charge as usual.

"Let's go kill some of Broski's Goblins"

"Walk around Old City, maybe half hour more". Jakson led the way. There was a hillock with trees that broke New City boundaries, allowing a quiet team to enter. By using the hillock as a base, they could range into the City or catch passing patrols. New City Goblins were almost organized. Goblins 1 and 2 were on the tops of buildings, with crossbows, helmets and leather panel armour. They moved quickly, darting in and out of the tops of buildings, familiar with the route. Below them, Goblins 3 and 4 carried shields, swords and wore plate and helmets. Goblin 5 was in charge. Its plate was fastened with straps, not rope. It was even covered at the back. It carried a spear and a dagger in its belt. Behind it walked something new. It was larger and only wore a helmet. It carried a large club.

"Hobgoblin", whispered Roland. A plan was set. They would stalk and ambush the group from behind. Brewary was to follow a certain distance with Demit (which she said without even looking at him), while the rest moved ahead. Roland was to choose his first target based on the situation. Jakson would Backstab the Hobgoblin. It didn't matter whether it was successful or not, because after the shot and attack, they would run and lead the goblins to Brewary and Demit. Once the fight connected, Roland and Jakson would insert themselves where necessary.

Roland's first arrow struck Goblin 1. The leather panels stopped the training arrows from going all the way in, so it would die struggling and bleeding from the spleen (if it had one). But there was no time to see it happen. Jakson used **Backstab** into the Hobgoblin's back. It lashed in reflex as Jakson jumped back and dashed towards Roland. By then, Roland's second arrow was ready. His bodkin flew for Goblin 5 but the thrashing Hobgoblin caught it in its arm. He turned and ran. Angry noises were made by the goblins and an order was barked. The chase was on. A dart narrowly missed him and cracked off the pavement. _Next corner. Ah shit, they're in the next. Damn, Jakson's fast._

Rounding the next corner, Brewary was waiting to hit the first thing to pass. Demit was behind him. Jakson had already vanished into the maze of turns and alleys. Brewary's **Rage Blow** took Goblin 3 in the helmet. The Zweihander sunk down as deep as the neck. Demit and Brewary stepped around together to meet Goblins 4 and 5 and the fight connected. Demit's **Smash** met Goblin 4's shield with a splintering crack and Brewary used **Wind** to catch Goblin 5's spear. It was better than the Old City Goblins so it moved its head slightly and caught the Zweihander tip with its helmet. Roland repositioned and loosed. His arrow bounced off Goblin 5's plate and it cackled. A dart struck Brewary. He grunted. Roland shot at Goblin 2 but it moved out of the way to reload. Heavy steps rounded the corner and there came the Hobgoblin, bleeding from the arm and back. It roared and thrashed again. Apparently, Jakson had circled around and caught the Hobgoblin the second time around with a Backstab. Roland made the mistake of firing at it. While his arrow did hit it in the shoulder, Brewary was hit by another dart. This time he yelled in pain. Still, his chain mail took most of the impact and he stood his ground, locking weapons and slashing at Goblin 5. Goblin 4's shield splintered after taking too many **Smash** so Demit used another and caught it in the face. It fell to the side to take the last **Smash** which caved in the side of its head.

"Relocate. Get up there, kill what's firing at us", said Demit to Roland. He turned to find a place to climb. She grunted as her jacket took a dart. That made 2 people bleeding out slowly. _Where is the bastard?_ The Hobgoblin, not finding Jakson, advanced to the group. Brewary aimed a **Rage Blow** that managed to catch the spear and snap off its head. Goblin 5 leaped back and pulled out its dagger. It took a few steps back, letting the Hobgoblin lead with a swing. Brewary met it with a grunt and a **Wind** that caught its face. Demit took on Goblin 5. She kept it away by using the length of her staff. Jakson reappeared and tried to **Backstab** but it dodged and cut Jakson. Roland had found a half broken staircase. He went up a floor and found a hole in the roof. Looking out, he saw Goblin 2, aiming at the fight below. It was quite hidden, concealed in a broken section in a roof. From below, it was only visible when it popped out to aim. From the roofs, only its helmet could be seen. Roland selected a bodkin. It punched through the helmet and head, pinning Goblin 2 to a roof beam. He pulled out his third bodkin and aimed for the head of the Hobgoblin. With **Quick-eye** , there was no missing. The Bodkin drove into the Hobgoblin's neck. Roland took its head (and attached bodkin) off with a **Rage Blow**. Kicking Demit and giving Jakson another deep cut, Goblin 5 ran. Roland's final bodkin caught it in the thigh. The other 3 came up and ganged up on it before it could screech for help.

"Take bag and hide", said Jakson. Demit made the signs for the dead as quickly as she could. Bags were grabbed and Jakson led them a few streets down into another fairly-intact house.

"Me first", insisted Jakson. Demit casted **Cure**. He put a finger to his lips, then climbed up to the beams of the house, peeking outside through a hole. Roland stood beside a window frame and peeked out every few seconds, arrow ready. Darts were removed with stifled grunts and moans. More **Cure** followed. Demit was rationing, counting down the seconds. The bleeding on her face from the kick was wiped off, as it had already stopped. She stuffed the bandage down her dart wound and pressed, grimacing in pain. Brewary needed quite a long dose of **Cure**.

"Their crossbows got kick", she said. Roland nodded and Jakson hissed for quiet. Pattering feet could be heard. Brewary froze so his chainmail wouldn't rattle. Demit lay flat and slow belly crawled to a darker corner. Jakson dropped from his perch and Roland aimed out the window and loosed. 2 gurgles could be heard. Some rummaging was heard and Jakson poked his head through the doorway.

"They follow blood." he gestured with his head that they got moving. He had the 2 dead goblin bags in his hand. Leaving, Roland saw the blood trail from Brewary. He realised that the Armoured Goblin was higher ranked and that the crossbow goblins prioritized protecting it. It was also a better fighter than Old City Goblins and had scored hits alongside the darts. Any other class other than a Warrior would have stopped fighting from the pain and get killed.

Jakson stopped the group. A search party was following the blood trail. Thankfully, Jakson never led them down that same trail. While it was the shortest route to the exit to the hillock, it was also the route the search party took. Demit was bouncing on the balls of her feet. 'We can take em', her face seemed to say. The search party was too close for speaking. She nudged Roland with her staff, suggesting Roland should shoot first, then the rest charged. Brewary and Roland looked at Jakson, who was very carefully peeking through the corner. He nodded. They lay down their bags gently. Roland tiptoed, arrow nocked. He waited for Jakson to creep up and **Backstab** Goblin 3. It made enough of a sound as it died immediately. Goblin 4 rounded the corner to look, only to take Roland's arrow to the face. Brewary and Demit, waiting for Roland firing as signal to go, rounded the corner but it was over. The search party was only 4, consisting the 2 killed while hiding to heal and the 2 just ambushed. They quickly emptied several bags into each other. There were too many to carry. Following Jakson, they left for the hillock to be concealed in the trees.

"We're a bag short", said Demit.

"There was the goblin that shot Brewary", answered Roland.

"I pinned its head to a wooden beam. I'm so sorry for that, by the way", Roland said to Brewary.

"You did your best, Honey. But you got it in the end, right? Look at you taking your time, what a tease."

"I go take bag?", suggested Jakson.

"Oh would you, Sugar? That goblin better pay up for having at me without consent", he said, laughing softly.

"After". He uncorked his water skin (Roland could tell which it was by now) and drank. The rest did the same, and they ate while watching their surroundings.

"Not picking a fight", said Demit. She held up her palms.

"Seriously. Not picking a fight. I just gotta ask… are you using your defence budget?"

"Woman, how could you suggest such a thing?"

"Like I said, not picking a fight. But I do know where you live. C'mon, I just gotta know". Brewary told the amount of the fifth portion of every distributed coin he received, including the price deducted from his Zweihander, and the one time the blade needed blacksmith work after he missed and hit a stone wall with the cutting edge. With some estimation and mental arithmetic, the numbers checked out. Roland and Jakson nodded too. Jakson even had it calculated to the copper.

"Then how do you afford that place?"

"Things work out when you're among the finest men, and that-", said Brewary, wagging a finger at everyone,

"-is none of your business". Demit shook her head.

"I'm sorry, man. Just… I'm sorry". She bit into her food, eyes down.

"We all good now?", asked Roland. There was a bit of silence.

"Oh Paprika darling, I can't stay mad at you". He got up, scooted Roland aside, sat beside and hugged her.

"I'm sorry for all the things I said too", he said, placing some smoked meat in her food cloth. With a snigger, Jakson uncorked his alcohol skin, took a swig and passed it around. It was the second skin of last night's wine, slightly off-taste. After the meal, he left to take the last bag, accompanied by Roland. They returned with 2. Roland had shot a crossbow Goblin left behind to scout the area and raise an alarm.

"Round 2?", a happy Brewary suggested.

"Out of **Cure** ", answered Demit. After playfully blaming Roland for taking too long to find the crossbow goblins and using up Demit's **Cure** , they left for Alterna.

Old City goblins yielded 8-10 silver for every 4 on average. New City Goblins yielded twice that amount. They were earning well, much to their delight. Eventually, they learned the lay of the City. The closest areas to the centre of New City were maintained by the goblins with ramshackle repairs using masonry and wood. Those were the bases, fortresses and breeding grounds. As long as they kept a certain distance, they fought patrols and guard posts.

The need for armour and skills was too great so as soon as it was financially possible, Brewary settled for a thinner padded jacket under the chainmail. He had padded hardened leather bracers, shin and arm guards. It was still pitiful protection for melee but far better than his starting gear. A helmet was forced on him, which he protested for about half a day before giving in. After much argument and switching between vendors and blacksmiths, he wore a Sallet, in which he insisted that a red plume feather is added. At the guild, he learned **Forward Thrust** , a one-handed thrust with a long reach. He said that if aimed correctly, he'd outrange the Armoured Goblin's spear.

Roland switched out all his training arrows. In his quiver was a sheaf of 20 broadheads and 4 bodkins. Slightly to his frustration, he had to use up his bodkins every time, which dug a bit into his finances. Still, it wasn't as great a need as Brewary's metal armour. The most expensive thing was changing his bow to a Longbow. It was brand new and it broke his bank. It also allowed broadheads to enter goblin chainmail. Bodkins no longer occasionally bounced off Armoured Goblins, though it didn't always go all the way in. He learned **Penetrator** , which allowed bodkins to have greater penetration power. He explained its downside was that it only worked on bodkins. Also, before anyone gets any bright ideas about 'AP rounds', one wouldn't want to shoot things that had too little armour because the arrow would go right through, defeating the purpose of an arrow being stuck in the target to impede its movements.

Jakson took a particularly savage blow to his thigh from a spear, which needed longer exposure of **Cure**. He also snapped his blade on the Armoured Goblin that speared him. He changed his whole armour to match his leather and metal bracers. Jakson was the first in the team to have metal plates, given the low maintenance of his lightweight thief gear. Roland noticed he preferred to run away and come back in ambush, unlike Team Manato's Thief who closed in, dodged then used **Backstab**. Jakson's new dagger was also brand new and tapered, called a Baselard. His new skill was **Sneaking** , which he demonstrated by having them turn their backs. A few seconds later, he whistled and they turned around. He had walked quite a distance without making a sound.

"Won't the metal compromise your stealth, Broski?". Demit bought a brand new Gambeson, a jacket that was even thicker padded than her previous one. On her right sleeve, she sewed on three yellow chevrons, 'because it looked familiar'. Her new skill was **Counter-strike** , which stored the momentum of a weapon she blocks with her staff then releasing it back.

"No, if not touch", he moved his arms and legs. The pads were smaller, thinner and segmented so the edges would not touch each other. It wouldn't protect as well as proper armour but Jakson couldn't afford to have the rustle of the padded jacket or the clinking of metal. Thief class was meant to be as quiet as possible. He decorated slightly as well. On his bracers, he painted the three white lines from his clothing when he first arrived in Grimgar.

They settled back into routine, operating in Damrow's New City. It was their little secret place. Other Volunteer Soldiers did not venture that way. On some days, they could hear Ranta in the distance while walking outside Alterna. Apparently Team Manato still operated Old City.


	14. Chapter 14

Nothing good lasts forever, so they say.

It was an ambush. 4 darts flew, 1 catching Roland in the chest, 2 catching Demit and another getting Brewary. Roland gave surprised yell, and round the corner came Goblins 1 and 2, with rope and plate, shield and sword. Behind them, Armoured Goblin and its spear and a Hobgoblin. Some cackling was heard and from the back, Goblins 3-5 advanced, equipped the same way as Goblins 1 and 2. Roland yanked the dart out of his chest with a grunt. Fuelled by adrenaline and fight response, he pulled out a bodkin. Goblin 5 made the mistake of not raising its shield high enough. **Penetrator** went through the thinner, outer part of the shield and into its face. Brewary had engaged. Demit walked past Roland, twisting and pulling her dart out of her Gambeson.

"Snipers!", she warned. She held down the rear with **Smash** and **Counter-Strike**. Roland took out a broadhead and killed Crossbow 1, aiming for Brewary. Still, three darts flew. 1 took Brewary in the back, another missed him by a hair and the last hit Roland in the belly. _Remember, they will protect the Armoured Goblin_. His breathing laboured from the pain, he pulled out another bodkin. This fight was expensive, but he can't afford to be stingy. **Penetrator** embedded the arrow up to the fletching of the Hobgoblin's club arm. It thrashed, clubbing Goblin 2 by accident. Brewary took the chance to use **Forward Thrust** , catching it in the neck. Armoured Goblin made him pay for it with a cut that hit his chainmail. He swiped with his sword to take off the spear head. Roland's next arrow was nocked just in time to shoot the reloaded Crossbow 2. The crossbow goblins were panicking. With one goblin dying after every reload, they were seeing Roland as a bigger threat. 2 bolts flew, one grazing his face and another catching him in the chest. Crossbow 3 was panicking and forgot to hide as it struggled to reload. He yanked out the dart with a grunt and shot the goblin. Adrenaline coursed, which wasn't helping with the bleeding from multiple dart wounds. He nocked an arrow and waited, gambling by ignoring the melee to his left and right. Crossbow 4 showed itself and did not live to shoot its dart. Roland turned to Demit.

Demit had stunned Goblin 3 somehow. Its helmet dented, it stumbled backwards and shook its head. Roland's arrow got stuck in its plate, causing it to panic and turn to run. Demit gave it a **Smash** from behind. Another arrow flew into its back and it clawed and scratched at the spot as it bled out. Goblin 4 punished Demit with a slice that half cut and half bounced off her Gambeson. Another **Smash** was taken in the shield. Its counter swing was caught in **Counter-attack** and redirected, catching it in the unshielded shoulder. The impact made Goblin 4 off-balance, giving Demit the chance to use **Smash**.

Armoured Goblin delivered some kind of a threat that made Goblin 1 go crazy. It charged forward, catching Brewary off-guard. He yelled in pain when he landed on the dart still stuck to his back. Roland nocked another arrow but something flashed and caused him more pain. His aim was off and the arrow bounced off Goblin 1's plate. Looking down, there was a dagger stuck in his belly, thrown by Armoured Goblin. It was a lucky throw that went between the openings in his padded jacket, due to the way an archer had to stand legs apart and leaning forward when drawing a bow. That was it for Roland. He sank to his knees in pain. Brewary had caught the goblin's leg and stood up. Enraged, he slammed the goblin against the ground. Demit arrived and used **Smash** , catching Goblin 1 in the face and killing it. Armoured Goblin and Hobgoblin had taken off.

Where was Jakson? **Cure** had to be dealt on site as Roland was bleeding badly. That curved dagger was not so easy to extract. Then it was Brewary's turn. He had several darts in him the whole fight, stopped by the padded jacket under the chain. The only deep wound was in the back when he fell backwards and drove a dart deeper. Bags were grabbed and emptied while Demit made as many signs as she could for the fallen. They looked for Jakson. Brewary wanted to call out but Roland and Demit stopped him. They didn't want to attract more attention.

They walked as quietly as they could, Roland taking point. Eventually, they heard goblins cackling and Jakson swearing. There were sounds of clashing weapons. Around a corner they came across a goblin with a severed wrist, weeping. Roland killed it before they were noticed. There was another dead one around the next corner, stabbed in the neck. Peeking around yet another corner, he saw Jakson. He nodded at Brewary and Demit. They understood the situation called for the 'advance on my shot'. He stepped out and aimed high. A Crossbow Goblin yelped and fell off. A dart missed and hit stone. Brewary and Demit advanced. Jakson was leaning against a wall, bleeding out and cursing. A different set of Armoured Goblin and Hobgoblin turned to face them and advanced. **Penetrator** hit Armoured Goblin square in the chest, spurting black blood. It stopped for a moment, took 2 more steps and fell forward. Brewary caught Hobgoblin's club with **Wind** , driving the Zweihander into its face. Demit used **Smash** on its knee. They ganged up on the Hobgoblin. The last crossbow goblin poked its head out for another shot and was taken down by Roland.

Time was of the essence and Jakson's screaming was muffled by a bandage stuffed into his mouth as the 2 darts in him were extracted. An arm was broken, its bracer almost shredded by slashing. 2 of his armour pads were no longer usable from damage. Deep and shallow cuts were all over. Brewary moved to gather loot bags as Roland watched the corners. Healing Jakson used up Demit's Cure. She thumped her chest and cussed.

"C'mon you stupid bitch, you can do this. One more. Just one fucking more. C'mon!". She squeezed out 3 more seconds of **Cure** and became pale. The rest had to be bandaged. Goblins 1 and 2 rounded the corner, dressed in chain mail and carrying spears.

"Down!", said Roland. Demit threw herself over Jakson. Brewary dashed over from the other corner. Roland loosed and the broadhead went through Goblin 1's shoulder. It grunted and advanced angrily. A dart flew and Brewary luckily caught it in his Zweihander crossguard. **Rage Blow** took out both goblin spears. They tried stabbing with the shafts. Goblin 2 was blinded by a **Wind**. Goblin 1 stabbed successfully but it didn't work on the chain mail. Brewary took its head off, then the flailing Goblin 2. The crossbow goblin leaned out to shoot again and was killed. Demit finished bandaging Jakson who was still bleeding. He leaned on her as he walked.

"Evac now, Marksman". Brewary was combining loot into fewer bags. Roland wished repeatedly that there were no more encounters as he led them back. They avoided one search patrol. Back at the hillock, 2 more goblins came out of the trees. Goblin 1 also made the mistake of not raising its shield high enough as Roland's last **Penetrator** punched through the shield and into the head. Goblin 2 blocked Brewary's **Forward Thrust** with its shield and was knocked on its rear. 2 steps forward and a **Rage Blow** kept it down. Gripping the blunt portion under the hooks, he speared through Goblin 2's chain mail. The Hillock wasn't safe so they grabbed loot, made the sign for the fallen and left, slowed down by Jakson's injuries. More darts flew in their direction, missing wildly from the distance it had to travel. Roland fired the remainder of his broadheads, aiming to make sure the goblins were kept pinned to the safety of the buildings. The goblins cussed and swore at them in their language but did not pursue.

They collapsed some half an hour limping away, under the shade of some trees. The mid-day sun made it hard to walk from exhaustion. Usually they would take a break in the Hillock before entering New City for a second round. Checking the bandages, Jakson's bleeding had stopped. He had bled into his bag and his food was ruined, so each offered some of theirs. To his annoyance, his alcohol skin had taken a slash. It saved him in the process, but now there was nothing but water to drink. Fireteam Alpha said nothing to each other. Demit and Jakson fell asleep as Brewary and Roland sleepily kept watch. 2 hours later, Brewary nudged them awake. Everyone was sore. Demit had a bit more **Cure** after the rest, so Jakson could walk on his own, which sped the trip home slightly.

"It's the Goblin Slayers", joked someone in the Market.

"There they go, back from Damrow, with loot to go. Scruffy from the fight, with loot bags light, witness! The Goblin Slayers' Might!", sang someone, pointing to the 2 bags from the hillock goblins carried by Brewary. Fireteam Alpha hadn't the strength to argue and point out the heavier one that Roland had in his carrying bag as a small crowd laughed at them.

The loot would sell tomorrow, which was decided as 'R&R day' by Demit. Today, they returned to their rooms to sleep, repair gear, whatever. Just no more combat. Back at the room, Jakson dropped his bags and gestured downstairs to Roland. Roland told him to be patient and clean up first, much to his annoyance. They spent the rest of the day drinking up the supply of Kvass, going to the toilet, sleeping and yelling out their window at stallholders across the street to deliver whatever they had to sell for eating.

"Da! We pay extra 2 copper, blyat!", yelled Jakson, his frustration matching the vendor who would rather her customers just came, purchase and leave.

That night the Fireteam met at Ruai for the final dose of **Cure** , a rather quiet dinner of roasted pork, bread and more pork in some kind of oily gravy with the Ruai special grain wine. The 2 then went to the lodging's kitchen to make more Kvass. As long as they didn't make a mess, bought their own ingredients and replaced the firewood for the stove, the owner didn't complain. After all, they pretty much bribed their way into that kitchen with a cast iron cooking pot in the first place.


	15. Chapter 15

The next day they sold loot and earned almost a gold coin worth in silvers and coppers. Their mood improved considerably. Roland noticed something.

"Goblin Slayers."

"Yo, what the fuck, Roland?"

"Please don't mention that around me, Honey."

"Hold on. Yesterday, they were pointing at the 2 bags Brewary carried. We were also beaten up quite badly. Today-", said Roland, pointing to their regular wear,

"-they don't recognize us, and our loot was in 2 filled bags". It took awhile to register.

"So these motherfuckers are looking out for beat-up Volunteers carrying only a little bit of goblin loot to sell?"

"Oh no, that is cruel. The poor things", said Brewary.

"Fuck, that is savage. UGH!"

Jakson, squatting at the side with a skewer and his new wineskin, laughed. Demit joined in, then Roland. Brewary thought Team Manato was adorable and he joined in laughing too.

"That's rude. We shouldn't be laughing at them", said Brewary later.

"Funniest shit I ever heard in Grimgar. Speaking of Goblins…"

"They jumped us", answered Roland.

"They know we're there and were lying in wait".

"Is ambush", said Jakson apologetically.

"Go on, Broski, tell us what happened."

"I use **Sneaking** and walk quiet, but many looking on roof. I fight back, but…", said Jakson, ending with a shrug.

"We got too comfortable, Broski. That's all. And that pisses the fuck outta me."

"I vote we go back, darlings. Only the finest men in Grimgar are allowed to rough me up like that."

"Yea. Let's go back", said Roland. Jakson nodded.

"Tomorrow, Fireteam Alpha is going back to New City, crash that party and fuck some shit up. Hooah?". 2 'Hooahs' and an 'Ura' answered.

Better bandages were bought instead of the torn strips of linen that they usually used. These Medicated Bandages were shaped like slings, with extra length to double as a tourniquet. The part that made them more expensive was the centre that contained a salve of sealant and medicine, which hopefully would stop a bleeding. Jakson replaced his missing pieces of armour. All edged weapons were sent for sharpening instead of doing it at the room with a whetstone. Brewary could finally afford a used cuirass. It was patched over the hole where the heart would be. According to the armoursmith, the previous owner caught an orc arrow to the heart. He decorated it by painting on a red flower with 5 petals, called a Scarlet Pimpernel. Roland could finally afford a Gambeson as well. Gambesons and Jackets were sent to tailors with specific instructions to patch with quality materials.

Hopes were high that evening. They sat at the market, watching people go by as they drank.

"What an adorable little girl", Brewary commented. A rather small girl in Thief clothing passed. She had black hair. Based on the looks of her gear, it was quite basic. Her party looked like 3 Warriors, a Priest, a Mage and her as a Thief.

"New bodies for the meat grinder", replied Demit.

"But 3 Warriors, though?", she continued.

"Anyone seen any of them in your guilds?", she asked. For Roland, naturally 'no'. Brewary and Jakson hadn't either, which meant that they had trained for trainee badges later than Fireteam Alpha.

Done lounging around, they took their time collecting their gear from the smiths, sharpeners, tailors and sorts. Suddenly Jakson slapped Brewary's arm and pointed in a direction.

"It's Team Manato". Their Warrior was carrying Manato. The Thief and Dreadknight were clearing the way. Following them, the Mage who was crying and being supported by the Hunter.

"Oh fuck no, pretty boy what have you done?"

"Let's follow and see", suggested Roland.

They tailed the group to the Temple of Lumiaris. Team Manato went up the stairs. Priests stopped them from entering so they kept to the temple pillars outside.

"That's drill sergeant Head Priest Honen", said Demit. Team Manato began to beg for help. The Head Priest was loud. He asked what Lumiaris could do to resurrect the dead. He lamented the loss of Manato, in whom he had faith and a plan for the future. He cried visibly. The Dreadknight wanted to grab the Head Priest but was stopped. The Mage sank to the floor and broke down. The rest just stood there, helpless.

"God fucking dammit. This ain't right. Give them a few minutes, then I'll slip in and find out what happened. Carry my shit for me? See you at Ruai for dinner". Demit entered the temple.

At Ruai, she explained what had happened.

"The worst. Fucking. Thing. They carried Manato to the crematorium but was turned away 'cos the fucker's closed for the day. So they had to carry him back, and now he's dead at some corner of the Temple and his squad's just sitting there."

"Poor things. What happened to Manato?", asked Brewary.

"Y'all promise to keep your cool?". They nodded.

"For real. Sit the fuck down and stay calm". everyone nodded again.

"From the ambush. The Armoured Goblin and Hobgoblin that got away…". The looks on everyone's faces were of horror. Jakson cussed in some different language.

"According to a Priest, they planned to attack the Armoured Goblin, but the fucker had a crossbow and got their Thief Haruhiro". _So his name wasn't 'Parupiro'. Idiot Dreadknight,_ thought Roland.

"Manato turned to help. They were 2 men down from the get-go and shit went FUBAR"

"So how do you know it was our goblins?", asked Roland. Everyone could guess from context what a 'FUBAR' was.

"It makes sense, don't it? They survived ambushing us and learned. Armoured up. Even the Hobgoblin had armour and a spiked club. But here's the kicker, here's how I knew it was our goblin", Demit paused to take a sip, and the rest were hanging on to every word.

"Fucker chucked a knife into Manato's back, right when he was organising the retreat". Everyone turned to look at Roland, who took the first knife to the belly.

"They must have gotten exiled from New City for failing to kill us", said Roland.

"Overnight, they killed any Old City Goblin they could find for gear. Maybe even some from the fortress, since they got better after surviving us. Probably planning to set up base after that", answered Demit. Everyone was silent.

"Dumbass motherfucker. Buy some armour next time, asshole", she said and banged her wooden mug on the table. Demit had taken stabs, cuts, darts and even once getting tossed to the side by a Hobgoblin club, breaking some ribs. She survived all because of the patchy padded jacket and then Gambeson, which was made by layering different fabrics into cushioning, dart-stopping soft armour.

They peeked at the Temple again before ending the day. Team Manato was there, sitting around his dead body, downcast. The descended, shaking their heads.

"Poor things got food and drink?", asked Brewary.

"Yea. Temple'll feed them. Doubt they have appetites."

"Who'll be the next leader?", wondered Roland.

"Hope not Ranta urod", said Jakson. Demit agreed.

"Maybe Orion will take them in", suggested Brewary.

"Here's what we do. Tomorrow, we go to New City and teach those goblins a lesson."

The next day, the hillock was abuzz with activity. Goblins had chopped the trees and turned the entrance they used into a small gatehouse of mason and wood. As they approached, the goblins went back in, closed the gate and started making threatening noises from the walls and roofs. A rain of darts came down and fell short of where they were standing. The situation in New City had changed. The goblins had come down from their ring of defences and taken in the entirety of the New City. There was no more Damrow safe zone to operate in. It was New City or the land of Grimgar outside.

An Armoured Goblin in charge of the gate was jeering, spurring the rest to join in. A Hobgoblin climbed up and started laughing in its own dumb way. Demit turned to Roland.

"Soldier, I need an AP round into that thing ASAP."

"Okay, but we're not getting his bag."

"No, soldier we will not. Now drop the fucker". Roland pulled out a bodkin. **Penetrator** hit the Armoured Goblin in the neck, punching right through. The Hobgoblin tried to steady the Armoured Goblin, but ended up pushing it over the edge outside the walls. Brewary handed his sword to Jakson.

"Oh, we're getting its bag". He sprinted, bracers covering his neck and groin. Roland's second **Penetrator** ended in the Hobgoblin's head, dropping it. It flailed and brought down 2 other goblins into the City side of the wall. The goblins on the walls and roofs fired at Brewary, and Roland did what he could. The gate opened again but Roland fired a **Penetrator** which splintered the wood on its way through. There were terrified shrieks and the gate remained ajar. A broadhead hit a goblin that dared stand in it and hurl insults. Brewary used the dead Armoured Goblin as a shield to return. Darts bounced off its armour. Jakson took the bag, held it up and Fireteam Alpha yelled back at the wall. Another rain of darts fell short. Roland fired another **Penetrator** at the gate, hoping to hit something. This time it was closed from the inside. They were displaying unbecoming behaviour but there was bad blood. Who could blame the New City Goblins for using an ambush to kill or expel an invader that was thinning their ranks? And who could blame Fireteam Alpha for being bitter about being ambushed? Still, it was a win for the Damrow Goblins as now only an army could enter New City. Roland had a feeling that after awhile, New City Goblins would claim Old City as well. A proper Goblin Kingdom would be formed. With a few final insults, arrows and dares that they came out to fight, Fireteam Alpha left.

"Should we hunt down the Armoured Goblin and Hobgoblin, finish the job?", asked Brewary.

"No. Team Manato's got beef with the fuckers now", answered Demit. Jakson agreed.

"Is Team Manato revenge".

"Orcs. We go for orcs tomorrow. Agreed?". Everyone did.

The one bag yielded loot worth 4 silvers. It seemed quite low for a single New City Armoured Goblin. _Maybe reclaiming the New City costs money. Oh no, they have some kind of an economy. And I spent all my bodkins._

"Oh man. Lost my temper and used up 3 bodkins", complained Roland.

"Worth it. I'll buy you one. I'll replace the one that took the Armoured Goblin."

"I'll give you something special", said Brewary with a laugh. Back at Alterna, Team Manato was seen burying the ashes of Manato on the hillside. They stood by his gravestone. The group looked broken in spirit. Ranta said something, tried to walk away and Yume yelled, calling him an idiot. Fireteam Alpha felt bad for them.

Brewary really did bring something special, a gift from the 'finest men'. It was a bodkin with a shining tip. Brewary said that it was called 'elemental coating', which could give arrows additional attributes like extra piercing power or elemental magic. He did not know which, as the mysterious benefactor wanted it to be a surprise. It also explained why richer, more wealthy and experienced Volunteers had glowing armour and weapons. Roland examined his new arrow. Even the shaft was made from a different kind of wood.


	16. Chapter 16

A last minute reminder by Brewary changed the Orc plan slightly, as it was the original plan to get another skill before going to the Orcs. Roland arrived at the guild, much to the cheer of the Recruiter and Rowland. The cat was still on the roof. Roland felt a tingling of resentment for Hunters. The first thing they noticed was his new bow.

"Longbow", remarked Rowland.

"That's good. Earn more and move on to the War Bow. A proper Long War Bow with horn for extra pull weight. Make sure to learn the difference so you don't accidentally pick up some composite Hunter's War Bow", said the Recruiter. Rowland spat the bit of toothpick he had in his mouth.

"So what have you come to learn this time, Roland?", asked Rowland. Roland told about the plan to go for Orcs next. The 2 teachers opinions differed on the matter.

 **Kinetic** was suggested by the Recruiter. It was a broadhead skill that imparted great force to anything it comes in contact with. It could knock weapons out of grips, smash weak shields or send lighter mud goblins flying, their inner organs damaged. If fired from an angle, it could move a metal shield out of the way, stop an armoured person's momentum, smash regular doors, barrels. Basically the weight of a heavy rock in a single arrow.

"Practice your **Chop** as well", cautioned the Recruiter.

"Orcs have a habit of charging and knocking the front line aside. Once they break through, it's only a few strides to where you are. This is where **Kinetic** will come in handy. Hit the head and slow it down for your Warrior by stunning. If that doesn't stop them, **Chop**. **Chop** like you need to turn the whole damned forest into kindling."

Rowland suggested the passive skills. **Stop-eye** was an accuracy skill that could be used in conjunction with **Quick-eye**. If you could hit what you wanted to before, now you could place it reasonably close to the precise point you wanted it to go, like the eye slits in a visor. Only battle experience and practice could make up the extra 3 inches or so in accuracy. **Lean-in** gave extra driving power and an even flatter trajectory to the arrow flight, at the expense of a slightly slower draw. The ultimate Archer passive was out of price range. Even if Roland could learn it, he was not ready until he learned everything else.

"Against orcs, **Penetrator** is what will punch through all that extra plate. The passives make sure you put those bodkins where they need to go. Orc fighting isn't cheap for bow users".

Roland showed them the elemental coated bodkin. The 2 men nodded.

"That's good. It will save your life. However, you're a long ways away from carrying a quiver of the things, and not even orcs can pay for firing those."

"Aye. Dragons, Wyverns, Greater Demons, Tarrasque, Liches, Animated Constructs, Vampire Lords, Giants, the terrors of the sea maybe. But not orcs."

"What are those? There are Giants? Where?", asked Roland. The 2 men shook their heads.

"Never mind that. Tell you what. Get to chopping and delivering, then when you get back, you can tell Rowland there what you want to learn." The recruiter handed Roland a plate of food and a mug of ale.

"We're spoiling him", said Rowland.

"Yes we are. But on the bright side you don't get to chop wood today", replied the Recruiter. Rowland laughed. Roland said little, pondering over his decisions as he worked, drawing on all his battle experience.

 _I can hit reasonably well. But to put it exactly where I want?_

 _If I can beat plate no matter what…_

 _But maybe I can buy extra seconds for anyone if I just slammed something aside…_

 _Dammit, couldn't they just have told me what to learn like the last time?_

"Remember those White Giants?", asked the Recruiter. The 2 men were discussing something quietly, convinced that Roland was distracted by work and his own thoughts.

"I hope no one ever learns where they are", answered Rowland.

"We burned all the signs, maps, and swore never to tell a soul about the hole", continued the Recruiter.

"Stop. Please. I lost my wife to a glaive creature, the black bastard. The stupid mistakes we made for pushing ahead of our skill level...", They saw Roland had stopped working and was looking at them.

"You got some Mage magic to make that axe move itself, boy?"

"I saw the last log become all firewood. Don't make us go there and make you chop a fresh tree and start over."

"Getting lazy. Maybe we make him run the gauntlet again. This time we use broadheads". Roland went back to wood chopping.

"Bread and water for you tonight, boy". He wasn't a boy. He wasn't supposed to be listening in either. After coming back from Alterna, he asked for an extension, to the slight annoyance of the 2 men. After his calisthenics, he decided on **Stop-eye**. The Recruiter extended his hand for the payment.

"Tell me why", asked Rowland. Roland explained the times where his arrows bounced off plate, got caught in shields, the times his arrows missed by a hair, his frustration with the goblin's bobbing style of running and fighting. The 2 men nodded, pleased with the answer.

"You're not upset?"

"Why should we be upset?", asked the Recruiter.

"We are not upset because you are showing signs of critical thinking. You know where you need improvement and why you need it. You know how you want to fight. You've observed Warriors wearing different weighted armour and swords?", asked Rowland. Roland thought of Brewary's lighter and slimmer Zweihander compared to most other warriors' weapons. Brewary also didn't aim to cover himself in plate, preferring to use his sword hooks and crossguard as a shield. He nodded.

"It's the same for Archers. With enough experience and some mind, certain styles are favoured. You choose to make your arrows count. You want each one to land where you want it to land. Coincidentally, that is my fighting philosophy as well", explained Rowland.

"I prefer more brute force, as long as I hit what I aim at, which is why I would use **Kinetic** in your situation", explained the Recruiter.

"It's the subtle things that make all the difference. You will see this in other classes as well; Thieves that carry clubs in their off-hand, Mages that learn Shadow magic, Hunters that prefer their machete or bow, or crossbow users, Paladins with smaller shields but larger swords, or Priests that step right up with the rest of them," Rowland continued.

"My Priest wears a Gambeson over her robes", said Roland.

"Exactly. Smart Priest. Now you have an off-tank", said Rowland. Roland felt better. Perhaps part of the burden on his mind was the fact that he had to choose between the two recommendations.

Roland learned **Stop-eye**.

Back at the skill demonstration meeting, Jakson asked for a **Cure**. His arm was so sore he had it in a sling. There would be no hunting that day anyway so Demit could afford to be more liberal with her healing. He sighed in relief and tested his arm.

"Show us what you got, Broski". Jakson grabbed some discarded piece of wood and tossed it to Demit. He pulled out his Baselard and waited. Demit hit and he parried it with his dagger by aiming straight for the weapon. Several parries later, Demit stopped.

"Is **Swat**. Good for block, but also make opening", Jakson explained.

"Outstanding. Roland?".

"Remember the broken bucket you chucked?", Roland asked Brewary. He nodded.

"Now try that roof tile". He activated Stop-eye and **Quick-eye**. Brewary picked up a discarded misshaped roof tile and threw. The tile broke as Roland's training arrow flew into it. He had prepared just the one for the demonstration. There's no using broadheads for that.

"I demand only headshots from now on, Marksman. Brewary?"

"There's no displaying this one, darlings. **Steel Guard** draws energy from within and strengthens my armour", said Brewary, standing with hips to the side, running his hands from hips to chest to neck.

"I do have a small bit of meditation to do for it, and can't keep it on all day".

"I have something similar. **Guard Stance** uses my staff to raise my defence. You will also be glad to hear that my magic has increased, so **Cure** is more potent and I can use more of it".

Having learned from their multiple sources, they knew orcs favoured very brutal melee combat. They were all expecting trouble and beefed up their defences. Roland started having doubts. Suddenly **Kinetic** seemed like a good idea. He took a deep, quiet breath. _Don't be ridiculous._

There was the issue of the hunting grounds. Brewary had something to contribute.

"There's a small feud between 2 nobles over their father's will", he explained. This news came straight from his associates, these 'finest men'. It was passed on from person to person, keeping the scale of involvement low so a minor war wouldn't break out, pulling in every noble house and the Alterna Frontier Army. He also told the payment received for participating. A sharp intake of breath followed. The party had yet to see any gold coins.

"No", said Demit.

"Is good money", said Jakson. Roland agreed.

"Why not, Paprika? My associates don't spread this kind of news lightly. The coin is good."

"You guys ever wondered what you were before coming here?", asked Demit. Roland remembered an archery club, riding a bus, boring lectures and dinner with a girl. Jakson remembered a sibling he nicknamed "Cheburashka" and his drinking buddies. Brewary didn't remember anything (or wasn't willing to admit). Demit remembered dry dusty lands, brown mountain ranges which were just as dry, hard stone and hot sun. Walls were mud and brick due to the weather. There were plants with white and red flowers. She was a soldier from a different land, and she killed the locals who were better dressed for the weather than she was.

"I was a people killer before I came here. I signed up at the Temple to serve, do what is right and to stand against the evil of the land. So I'm not going to order you to turn down the offer, but I say with all due respect that should you choose to accept, I'm not coming. You can divide the loot and reward among yourselves, cos I got no business killing people unless I have to". No cussing, no insulting, no direct orders and she said something resembling 'please'. _Oh shit. She's dead serious._

"I'll tell my associates", said Brewary. He seemed amused about something. Jakson just shrugged. Fireteam Alpha had the rest of the day off.

The next day, they assembled to leave.

"Oh, fuck. It's PTSD Mary", Demit laughed. Mary the Priest was recruited into Team Manato as replacement Priest. She followed Team Manato a few steps behind. She had her wall up and was refusing small talk from the others. Manato was no longer there, and based on how the Thief led the group it was now Team Haruhiro.

"Well, at least her staff is decent. But for fuck's sake buy some armour."


	17. Chapter 17

Orcs 1 and 2 were similarly equipped. They had hide covered shields, scale armour and used curved swords. Seeing orcs for the first time is quite an experience. They are green skinned and wide bodied. 2 people could stand side by side and match the width an orc would take. From their mouths protruded boar-like tusks. The most terrifying thing about them was that they are organized. The orcs stood beside each other and advanced at the same speed, taunting in their language. Brewary and Demit advanced and met them. Roland fired an arrow that was easily stopped by Orc 2. A few strides away, the orcs charged with a yell.

Demit used **Guard Stance** \+ **Counter-strike** and Brewary **Rage Blow**. Orc 2 chopped savagely but the staff caught it and redirected the force, which was taken by the shield. Demit used **Smash** but her staff thudded against the shield again. She barely managed to catch the incoming slash with **Counter-strike**. Without **Guard Stance** activated, the sword slash would have hit. Still, the orc raised its shield in time to stop it again. Orc 1 took **Rage Blow** with both sword and shield, redirecting Brewary's weapon. Thankfully it wasn't the overly heavy and slow Bastard Sword or Giant Cleaver types because he managed to steady his Zweihander and used **Wind** to catch the incoming orc sword. Choosing to trust its armour, the tip of the Zweihander bounced off the orc's helmet. It drove its shield into Brewary's mid section but he stepped back and used **Forward Thrust.** The orc moved its shoulder, protecting its face with the pauldrons. Along with that shoulder came the arm and its sword. Brewary barely managed to catch it with his sword's crossguard. The following **Rage Blow** was only half stopped by the orc shield and the scale armour jingled as the Zweihander bit into it. First hit; Brewary.

Orc 1 was having none of that. It shoved Brewary, sending him 6 feet away. That gave enough of a gap for Roland. It raised its shield but **Penetrator** hit the orc, punching through the scales that protected its knee. Defiant, it remained standing but there was no more walking or tackling for it. Reaching into its belt, it threw a small throwing axe, missing Roland by the sleeve of his Gambeson. Still, that sent Roland sprawling. It roared, arms spread out as Brewary picked himself up and approached. _Death in_ battle, thought Roland. The Veterans did mention Orcs loved their fights.

Jakson was helping Demit. She had yet to land a hit, and had taken a slice that was stopped by her Gambeson. Still, the matter was clear. The orc was outperforming her. Jakson had tried to **Backstab** Orc 2 but Demit gave it away by looking. Orc 2 turned to slash behind itself, missing Jakson's torso. He had just sucked in his gut and jumped back. Demit finally landed a **Smash** , which it took in the helmet. Unfazed, it ignored Demit for a bit and attacked Jakson. Pushed, he used **Swat** to parry, holding it reversed and in both hands. The Thief issued dagger would have failed after 2 or 3 **Swat** against the heavy orc sword but Jakson had a Baselard with a broad hilt and a hefty tang. **Smash** came in again, this time at the left humerus (if Orcs named the section that way). It turned and slashed, caught by a double-handed **Counter-strike** and was hit in the head. The helmet dented. Seeing the orc turn, Jakson had latched on to the shield, letting go and jumping back to avoid the retaliatory sword. **Smash** came in again. The orc decided to shove Demit. Jakson charged and managed to stick his dagger in slightly, buying Demit time to stand again.

Orc 1 changed its stance. It held its shield close and narrowed its profile. With the arrow in its knee, it could hobble. Using the reach of **Forward Thrust** and the length of the Zweihander, Brewary kept up the pressure at a distance. Its defence was almost perfect from the front and sides. Brewary was almost stalemated, drawn into a match of stamina and bleeding out. Roland relocated to shoot it in the back. **Penetrator** embedded itself in the lower back and it roared in pain. Brewary closed and used **Rage Blow** , which it still managed to stand and absorb with its shield and sword. A broadhead somehow managed to stick in the scale armour with minimal penetration, but enough distraction. Holding his Zweihander like a spear, Brewary yelled and shoved. It was enough to topple and off-balance the Orc, but only because of the arrow in its knee. It fell on that one knee and with one last roar of defiance that was more of a laugh, it's head was taken off by **Rage Blow**.

Brewary turned for Orc 2 who roared to the sky as it fended off Demit and Jakson. _Was that for its friend?_ Its arm was slowed down as Demit aimed at the same spot multiple times. The 2 made sure to stay in front and behind, never beside. If it turned to Jakson, a **Smash** would hit that same spot on the arm. If it turned to Demit, Jakson would grab an arm or move in for a **Backstab**. Now with the risk of being cornered, Orc 2 abandoned defence. Turning to Demit, it swung its sword. **Counter-strike** caught it and it took the hit at the shield. At the same time, it stabbed. Jakson stabbed it from the back but it kept on. Demit's staff thudded against the shield a split second before the sword cut Demit in the neck. It kicked and laughed, sending Demit sprawling. The gap gave enough time for **Penetrator** which it caught in the shoulder, disabling the shield arm. Brewary closed in, Jakson from behind and it laughed, expertly using only the sword arm to fight.

"Honey! Get on Paprika now!". Demit was gurgling from the open wound in her neck. She tried saying the prayer but spurted blood. She then fumbled with her carrying bag one-handed, the other on her throat. Roland yanked out his bandage. Demit grabbed his arm and tried saying something, spitting blood on both of them.

"Stop struggling!", said Roland as he handed Demit a bandage to keep her hands busy. She grabbed it and pressed against the wound and began sobbing slightly. Pulling out another bandage, Roland looked around for danger. Brewary was scoring hits on Orc 2, but its armour held. His Zweihander didn't retain enough cutting edge. _Problem is, we blew our coin on the last skill._ He replaced Demit's soaked bandage. She was still bleeding out. _C'mon. We spent_ coin _on you. Seal the wound now._ His medicated bandages gone, he searched Demit's bag. He pulled Demit to sit up and she placed one hand on her head. Replacing the second soaked bandage, he tied the ends under her arm. He found the last of the old linen strip bandages at the bottom of her bag and tied it over the third bandage. She coughed up blood to clear her airways and took painful and loud breaths. She was crying from the pain. He checked the earlier cut on her Gambeson and saw it was almost cut through. He checked elsewhere for bleeding. In that short time, she had bled out enough to become pale. She was losing consciousness so he slapped her and yelled in her ear;

"Ay! Stay awake until your bleeding stops!". It startled her but the order registered and she nodded. He placed her hand on the bandage.

"You have to keep the pressure on! I can't wrap it too tight or I'll choke you! Stay awake!". She nodded.

"They're dealing with it. Calm down and save yourself. It's an hour away to Alterna and we can't have you bleeding out here. Do you understand?". She nodded again. Roland looked around again. Luck smiled on them that day. Fighting had always attracted more enemies. It happened in the Forest. It happened in Damrow. He expected it to happen again today but it didn't. If 2 more orcs were to show up, they'd eventually win again with more wounds and time but then Demit might just die and they'd bleed out on the way home. Fireteam Alpha would be wiped.

Orc 2 died from **Backstab**. Brewary and Jakson had injuries. They limped close. Jakson got cut in his midriff. Brewary had a very bad thigh injury and several other small ones. Orc 2 had decided Brewary was the bigger threat.

"Bandage up. We're leaving now before any more show up"

"How's Paprika?"

"Bleeding's stopped, I think. Last change". Roland took out a small knife from his boot and cut the soaked bandages. The bleeding had almost stopped. He wrapped the last of Demit's bandages, which stopped the bleeding. Jakson had only one deep wound. While Brewary bandaged himself, Jakson took the orc money bags and the 2 shields. Demit's staff and Brewary's Zweihander were used to support the shields, making a makeshift stretcher.

Jakson was shorter so he stood in front, holding the sword handle. Brewary wrapped his glove with leather he cut from the orcs and held the blade. The staff was problematic. It was a short staff, meaning Demit had to be placed spread legged on the stretcher because there was not enough length. Still, it proved workable if a bit frustrating.

"I can cut some long branches, tie 'em up", offered Roland, pulling out his hatchet.

"No time. Keep an eye out, Honey. You pull that fancy arrow out, now. Let's go, Sugar. To the Temple."

Roland took point, his elemental bodkin nocked. Thankfully there were no more orcs. Frustratingly, there were no Volunteers along the way to ask for **Cure**. Demit passed out on the stretcher. Exhausted, with Brewary still bleeding, they made it to the Temple.

Priests took Demit away for treatment while other Priests casted **Sacrament** on Brewary and Jakson. It was far more potent than Demit's **Cure** , covering the whole body.

A loud, angry voice startled the three. The priests treating them took off.

"What have you done, you fools?!". 'Drill Sergeant Honen' had arrived. The three said nothing, bowing slightly in reverence to the Head Priest.

"Well? Answer me, boys. First poor Manato, and now Demit almost dies. Explain this tomfoolery."

"The orc was surrounded but it charged for Demit", Roland tried to explain.

"What do you think it would've done, boy? It's an orc!". Nobody answered.

"Did you not know that the Priest is one of the 2 essential classes for a party?". Since Roland answered first, it was directed at him. He nodded. _Damn this guy is loud._

"And I suppose after that it went for your Warrior here?", said Honen, gesturing to Brewary with his staff. Roland was surprised. Then he groaned internally and hung his head. The orc targeted the Priest first, then Warrior. Knocking those out would open the party for a wipeout.

"I expected more sense from a Pimpernel, even if I don't approve of your organization". Brewary did not answer.

"Were you not taught that the Warrior and Priest are the 2 essential classes?", Honen repeated the question to Brewary. He nodded.

"Then explain why your Priest was standing beside you -", he pointed with his staff to Brewary "- and not beside him?", he pointed to Roland. His staff made a ringing sound when he thumped it on the stone floor in the temple.

"Were you not taught your roles in a battle? Oh, Lumiaris. Spare us from this idiocy. We told the girl to be a Paladin but she insisted she was going to be a Priest. Now she ignores her Light Magic so she can do staff fighting. Idiot girl". He massaged his temple.

"Demit will be returned to you when she recovers. No magic can replace blood. As for you fools, out. OUT!". He followed them to the temple stairs and rebuked them as they went down the steps.

"- and may Lumiaris grace you so Grimgar will be rid of your stupidity!". That turned a lot of heads.

That evening, 3 filthy, moody, raggedy and bloodied men sat at Ruai to drink and eat, ignoring the disapproving looks from the owner. They said nothing for an hour, letting the alcohol seep in and loosen tense muscles.

"I'm worried about Demit", said Roland.

"So am I, Honey."

"Is not problem. Tonight I go see."

"Sweet, sweet Sugar."

"Brewary… what's a Pimpernel?"

"Why, the Scarlet Pimpernels are the finest men in Grimgar." Jakson and Roland chuckled weakly as they made the connection between the red flower on his cuirass and the red feather in his helmet. _So that's what it was._ Jakson took a drink and shook his head.

"Is very loud old man.". Later they waited at the bottom of the temple steps while Jakson used **Sneaking** and snuck in. He took an indirect route where he first climbed a neighbouring building and then used the rooftops to enter the Temple. He returned to say that Demit was sleeping. It was then that the men calmed down and returned to their rooms.


	18. Chapter 18

The room door was knocked at some ungodly hour. Roland and Jakson jumped out of their beds. Jakson advanced to the side of the door with his dagger while Roland lit the oil lamp. The door knocked louder.

"Goddamit let me in". It was Demit. Jakson opened the door. Demit entered in a hurry. She looked haggard and pale. Sniffing, her face soured a little.

"Fucking hell, soldier. Change your sheets ever since you were born?". The 2 men took slight offence to this.

"Is Kvass, blyat", said Jakson, pointing to the small barrel sitting on the side table that came with the room. He tapped a mug and handed it to Demit, who sat on Roland's bed and tasted.

"Huh. You holding out booze on your squad?", she asked.

"Well now that you know how it smells, you'd understand why we just kept it to this room", answered Roland. Brewary probably wouldn't want anything to do with it. It turns out that Demit, ever the soldier, would consume anything.

"Working man's drink. Beer's better, though". She finished the mug, coughed a little wet and wanted another.

"Given how much this guy drinks, Kvass keeps the cost down", said Roland. Jakson smiled and nodded. They all had a mug, though Jakson had to wait for Demit to finish hers.

"They let you out at this hour?". In the centre between the beds was a long and narrow tall bench used as a table to work on gear. Roland placed his mug on that bench.

"Nah. I busted out. As soon as I woke, I was given water and food and a lecture on 'Combat sense and sensibility' by the Head Priest and my Master. When they turned to leave I said 'fuck it' and took off on a bathroom break. Don't plan to go back." She was not doing well at all. The walk from the temple to their lodgings tired her out. There was no bleeding but she really did need bed rest. And that's exactly what she asked for.

"Bunk here for awhile? Fuckers know where I live. Don't want to get dragged back to the Temple."

"Temple is hospital. Is better for sleep", said Jakson.

"Not gonna take more crap from Drill Sergeant or some Priests being too fucking nice to me. You know how nice these Priests can get? Fucking angels. Going to see none of them in hell later, fuck no".

"Not trying to kick you out, but Brewary has better quarters than we do."

"I tried. But he moved to faggot den across the street, did you know? He's a high roller now." She lay down in Roland's bed, sighed and stretched slowly, as if afraid of breaking something inside herself.

"You guys seriously never moved out of this dump?"

"Bitch, you come into my house, sleep in my bed…", said Roland. She chuckled.

"Just sayin', Marksman. Don't mean nothing. Just… fucking with you." She fell asleep immediately. The 2 men shook their heads in disbelief, had a little more Kvass and watched her for a few more minutes. Roland extinguished the lamp. Jakson's bed could be shared but there was no turning. Still, it was better than the straw beds they slept in before.

The next day, they woke up, cleaned and left Demit sleeping. They went to get Brewary. He laughed when Roland told him what had happened.

"Went looking for her man, did she?", he joked.

"Let's get breakfast first, then some for her". They later found her exercising. She was wearing that sports bra she once flashed and shorts. Roland realised that's what she wore under her robes; she took some trousers and cut it above the knee to make shorts.

"Paprika dear, trying to kill yourself this time?".

"Relax. It's only a quarter of what I usually do". She was sweating from the exertion. Her neck was scarred. There was a table and stools nearby so they sat. She opened the meal cloth Roland handed to her and dug in. Jakson went inside.

"I am so happy I'm wearing this. My clothes wore out. But this, this material lasts forever", she said, talking about her bra. _'Microfibre', was it_?, thought Roland. That word seemed familiar and was associated to that kind of fabric. Jakson returned with the barrel and mugs. He handed out Kvass.

"Can't say I'm fond of this, so sorry, Sugar". Jakson shrugged at Brewary.

"Stinks up the room, but I learned to like it", said Roland.

Later, Demit borrowed a spare clean towel from the men, bathed, then slept some more. The men brought food for her again at lunch. She spent the rest of the day sleeping. Brewary went back to his lodgings and Roland and Jakson just lounged, slept or drank. More Kvass needed brewing so they did that. That evening, her colour returned, she selected the time used by the head priest for his daily meditation to walk back in and fetch her gear. The priests stopped her and she was only permitted to leave under oath and sign of Lumiaris that the next day was spent resting.

They finally sold loot the following day. Those crystal buttons were beautiful. More beautiful was the haul they had from just 2 orcs. Gear was maintained, patched or replaced. Roland swapped out the arrows in his quiver to 13 trainee artisan quality bodkins, 5 craftsman bodkins, 5 broadheads and the elemental coating bodkin. Medicated bandages were replenished. Demit kept to her word, sleeping and eating.

They headed out again the following day, returning bloodied and out of bandages. This was leagues ahead of a Goblin fight. They had to spend a day just to maintain gear condition, so they hunted every alternate day and sometimes came back empty-handed. Brewary had sword problems again. His worn Zweihander did not fare well against the scale, mail, plate, heavy weapons and hidebound shields of the orcs. One section had even lost its cutting edge as the steel was worn out and the softer iron spine was sharpened. One day his sword bent out of shape and had to be discarded. He picked up an orc sword to defend himself (which sold for quite a sum). Still, they made progress and had raised a sizeable amount of coin. They finally saw gold for the first time despite the loot being divided into 5. It was time for new gear and skill.

Roland had a Long War Bow, which exceeded the draw weight of what most Hunters used. He wore a suit of Lamellar Armour and a Banded Kettle Helm. His hatchet was never changed, because he hardly used it thanks to the efficiency of his team. At the guild, he learned **Kinetic**. Once he found out the price of elemental coating, it spurred him to earn more.

Brewary was brightly coloured. Favouring his lighter, weapon-focused fighting style, he did not cover himself in Full Plate. He had a brand new Artisan grade Cuirass (with painted on Scarlet Pimpernel), metal Greaves, and metal Laminar protecting his arms, thighs, knees and shins. Underneath that he wore a multi-coloured suit of yellow, red and white that had puffy arm sleeves, covered by metal Spaulders. His sword was a thing of beauty. A combination of the defence budget, personal finances and loans from the 'finest men' and his own team mates (who couldn't resist getting caught up in his excitement), the brand new Artisan grade Zweihander was bought from one of the more upscale indoor weapons stores in Alterna, complete with Blacksmith, Steelsmith, Tanner, Leathersmith and Vendor stamps. A certificate carried more stamps for the suppliers of the sand, iron and coal used in its making plus Statement of Quality and Assurances, smithing and selling dates, wax sealed. His helmet was grandiose but functional. A custom order, it was the same colourful fabric covering a metal helmet like a large, wide-brimmed hat. Red plume feathers stuck out from one side. At the guild, he learned **Reverse Thrust** , a skill that allowed him to attack while backing away, useful in a more mobile fight that needed footwork. He thanked his 'darlings' so much, they were still caught up in the excitement and did not ask for interest payment for their loans.

"That buzzsaw better kill several orcs in one hit, soldier", answered Demit. She too wore Lamellar (with painted on chevrons) and the same Banded Kettle Helm as Roland, but with chainmail skirting for protecting the neck. For her thighs, legs, and arms, she wore metal Greaves, padded metal and leather. Her staff had a hammer at its end. Adapting to orc fighting, her weapon was no longer balanced in the centre. When swinging, she held it at different parts to adjust the length of the reach for **Smash**. She found out about this through experimentation. Priests disapproved of her choice in armour and weapon, but she proudly proclaimed to be the second "War Priest" in Grimgar (the first being Honen, shut the fuck up no priest can be such a hardass without command in combat). At the insistence of the Temple, she learned the Light Magic skill **Light of Protection**. It provided a team of up to 6 with extra physical strength, resistance and reduced bleeding for 30 minutes. She fumed about not being allowed to learn the staff skill **Revenge** until her Light Magic was up to snuff. Her next skill was to be **Heal** , a skill that healed from a distance and affected the whole body. There would be no negotiations, according to the temple. She could only learn a Staff Skill after that.

Jakson wore a body fitting padded sleeveless jacket that covered chest to waist. Inside, it was lined with hardened leather bands and a panel for the chest. He painted the logo from his clothing at the left breast and the same three lines on his bracers, but this time with dull gray; white would blow his cover if seen. For his arms and legs, the same padded metal and leather panel that he had always worn, repaired and replaced. This was the compromise a Thief had to make. Any more armour or fabric would produce too much noise, cancelling out **Sneaking**. Fireteam Alpha once came across Team Renji hunting Orcs and their Thief wore so little, she was almost naked. She had next to no protection. He bought an armour piercing Stiletto. Using the newly learned **Dual Wield** , he carried his Stiletto in the main hand and Baselard in the other. As usual, his armour was cheaper to maintain so his weapon was the first Elemental Coated weapon in the team, a coating that gave extra piercing to his Stiletto. He tapped Roland's shoulder and gestured in a direction with his chin.

"Would you look at that", said Demit. Mary was walking with Team Haruhiro, chatting with the girls. She had Ranta wrapped around her little finger. At her displeasure, Ranta would kowtow and apologise before turning to say something even more offensive to Haruhiro and their Warrior.

"Oh, they're adorable", said Brewary.

"Fuck yea. Goblin Slayers have tamed PTSD Mary."

"Can we not call them that? They can't be that bad if Mary fits in and the Dreadknight doesn't get any more of them killed."

"But is goblin bags", observed Jakson. Some kind of loud 'Ehhhhhhhhh' came out from Ranta and they winced. It was the signal to leave. Roland noticed a crowd heading in one direction and mentioned it.

"Only one way to find out. Fireteam Alpha, move out". That evening, in the jam-packed Sherry's, Roland saw a Necromancer, Golem and an Elf for the first time. Since Fireteam Alpha spent more time in Ruai than Sherry's, they only heard rumours and gossip from passers-by in markets. But even then the fame of Soma was known. This Soma stood and the tavern went silent. He addressed his friends in turn and they nodded in response.

"Oh fuck off and get on with it", hissed Demit.

"We have decided to form a clan". The tavern erupted. This Soma had a voice that carried. He stated the goal of wanting to invade Undead DC in the neighouring Kingdom of Ishmal. This No-Life King had resurfaced according to a source and he was planning to put it down again. Extending a hand, he asked for strength and help. The tavern erupted once again. Roland looked at his party. Demit was shaking her head. Jakson had the same cynical look as Brewary who was clapping politely. The cheering took longer to die down. Demit leaned in and half yelled,

"This motherfucker's hiding something. I can smell the bullshit from here". Roland nodded. _To just show up, use your fame and start recruitment?_ Someone asked for the name of the clan. It was to be 'The Daybreakers', to even more cheering. Gesturing with his head, Jakson indicated that he wanted to leave. They pushed their way through the bodies and left.


	19. Chapter 19

The day was a good yet bad one for Fireteam Alpha. It was 'field test' day and their gear performed well. There was no need for bandages for the first time since they started fighting Orcs. There was one problem, though. Somehow there were fewer orcs around. Fireteam Alpha actually had a standoff with another party for spots. Being driven off by superior numbers of the other party, they finally managed to get a trio. Orc 1 was the Armoured variant in scale, helmet, sword and shield. Orc 2 was a Berzerker, with less armour, but faster and stronger. Sometimes Berzerkers carried twin weapons, sometimes savage, double-handed swords or axes. Orc 3 was the greatest danger right off the bat. Orc Archers carried bows with draw weights even human Archers had trouble with. Their arrows were slightly longer and heavier, like miniature ballista bolts. With barbed heads, the arrows often bled a person out. It was hard to extract and usually had to be pushed through the other side and snapped off. The only thing stopping the existence of more Orc Archers was their martial habit of close combat and duels.

Fortunately, this was a duelling day. Orc 2 told the rest to wait and advanced alone. Roland felt thankful. What few encounters with Archers never turned out good. It didn't matter if he fired first. The orc tends to survive and lets loose, usually targeting Demit. _Intelligent bastards, killing the priest first._ Demit was gung-ho about the whole situation, but there was this protectiveness each member had for one another which would not stand it. Just in case, a new way of advancing was suggested by Brewary, where Demit stood behind him, one hand on his back, then appearing from the left and right when the fight connects. She hated it, but then the strategy of armour and practical advancing methods from the Warrior's perspective were explained to her, in which she grudgingly gave in. 'It's a move used by armoured Warriors to advance with less armoured companions', was the explanation by Brewary. It's actually something called "To protect a Lady", a training routine where a Warrior may have to protect vulnerable, high value targets like a noble Lady, which he cleverly did not mention because Demit would rather try swat Orc arrows with her staff than be 'protected like a lady'.

"Get it, soldier", said Demit. Brewary advanced. Much to the shame of humans(by Orc standards), they ignored the unwritten rules of single combat the most. Who can blame the humans, who on average are weaker? Still, many Orcs tried, even if the human party charges immediately, interrupts the duel or moves to get revenge if the Orc wins. The first time a duel was proposed, they were lucky. Thinking Orcs wouldn't range out that far, they blundered around a bend right into waiting Orcs. The challenger, an Armoured Orc, pointed its weapon at Brewary while its companion kept its weapon sheathed and its stance passive (by Orc standards). Were that to be an ambush, at least 2 members would have died. Brewary won by the skin of his teeth with **Steel Guard** , as that fight tore the breastplate off his Cuirass and gave him heavy bleeding. When the orc died, the companion readied its weapon and backed away, expecting to be attacked by dishonourable humans. They kicked themselves that night for blundering into a potential ambush and from that point, Jakson always ranged ahead. It also started something new; Fireteam Alpha would never dishonour a duel they didn't want, flatly refusing outright if challenged. They put it to the test the next duel; Brewary was challenged but he shook his head and did not advance. The orcs charged as a team to punish them for turning down such an honour, and punish they did. That was the fight that bent Brewary's Zweihander. The sword he picked off a dead Berzerker to defend himself looked like an oversized Warbrand.

Back to the present, Brewary and Orc 2 stopped just outside of weapon range. The orc began by saying its name, whose language made no sense to humans, but based on the situation that was the most likely thing to say.

"Brewary of Fireteam Alpha, Scarlet Pimpernel." They took their stance. Brewary stood with knees bent slightly, body facing a little to the side, the Zweihander held almost vertically. As was the custom of the Berzerker, it charged first.

After that fight, the other 2 orcs backed away, With Jakson and Demit standing behind a panting Brewary for cover. _Easy… easyyy… don't pull that bow. That's right. Get outta here._ Some distance away, the orcs turned and left. Brewary laughed. They had finally settled into routine. The dead orc was looted.

Searching for more orcs brought them closer to Deadhead Watching Keep. Its outer walls looked about 2 or 3 times the height of a person. Surrounding the keep are camps. This was the Orc base, where they ranged out and came in contact with human Volunteer Soldiers. There was a large gathering of orcs there. Using **Quick-eye** and **Stop-eye** , he could see human heads on pikes. They didn't dare risk getting too close. Orcs ran faster and their bows shot father.

"Can't see shit", said Demit.

"Let's just keep looking somewhere else", said Brewary. He was in a good mood. They walked some more when another party crashed through the brush.

"Orc raid! Back to Alterna now!". Hearing this, Roland, Brewary and Jakson turned to run but Demit stopped them.

"Oh, you're going to sprint all 6 clicks back to Alterna? Stop being a bunch of pussies and double time. Move move move!"

They jogged the way back, trying their best to cut through bushes where the paths bended. They were among other teams who all ran the distance. Some who spent their energy sprinting were left behind. A rumble followed in the distance. It wasn't till open ground that each looked back and almost stopped. A small Orc army was advancing, and they weren't walking. Leading them was an orc in black armour and what looked like an orange striped pelt. Demit shoved them all into movement.

Some other teams were also sensible, jogging instead of running full tilt in panic. They arrived at Alterna with the bells ringing repeatedly in alarm. The gate was about to be closed and barred. Any Volunteer Soldiers who lagged behind would be left outside to die.

"West Town, nothing to loot there", suggested Roland. They needed a place to catch their breath.

"We are holding this gate, soldier."

"No, we are not", said Brewary.

"Move in some more, let them spread out a little. Then the guards and any Volunteer Corp party will fight them", said Roland.

"And let them in and come after the people of the town?", argued Demit.

"Spicy, spicy Paprika. Concentrated around this gate, you'd need an army to stop them. Don't tell me you don't already know that?", said Brewary. They jumped as the gate was banged from the outside. The orcs had brought a battering ram.

"Why only we stand here?", asked Jakson, annoyed. Roland was right. Even the guards had bolted deeper into the city where the streets would separate the orcs and they could be dealt with separately by parties.

"West Town. Let's go." said Roland. The men moved first. Demit cussed and followed.

"Fucking incompetent. What kind of government doesn't guard its own gates?".West Town was a good choice because it was less populated. The markets and richer corners were thronged by a mass of people running for safety. Less experienced Volunteers, citizens, crafters, smiths and anyone not for fighting were climbing over each other to save themselves. Roland noticed some adventurers pushing through the crowd towards the gate. The gate broke and orcs poured through, with black armour orc leading the way. They roared at the prospect of victory.

"Right, darlings. Find us a good place to shine". Jakson led the way to a crossroads. There were enough alleyways for him to disappear into, and the crossroads provided multiple escape routes. Roland climbed a small ledge by a window. There was enough place to stand, provided he got the clothes line out of the way, which he cut with the knife in his boot. He had overwatch for 3 of the 4 streets. They kept quiet and waited. Jakson stood by a corner, peeking towards the direction leading to the gate. He was planning to use the alleyways. Some frightened people ran by.

"You're a bunch of useless parasites! What are you standing around for, like cowards?"

"Fuck outta here before I bash your face in", answered Demit. A stall around the corner came crashing down and a scream was heard. The frightened peasants squealed and fled. Roland's eyes gleamed from **Stop-eye** and **Quick-eye** as he pulled out a bodkin.

"O Light, may Lumiaris's divine protection be upon you... **Light of Protection**." A hexagon floated on every member's wrists. Brewary and Demit bounced on the balls of their feet, holding their weapons like spears. Brewary held his closer to his shoulders, the point pointing down slightly. Roland felt lighter from the spell too.


	20. Chapter 20

**Penetrator** took the Berzerker strutting around the corner in the face. Its 3 friends ducked back as Roland pulled out a broadhead. 2 rounded the corner again in a run, shields held up. They were the Armoured Orc variant. _Where's the other one?_

"Jakson! There's another one somewhere!", yelled Roland at the top of his lungs. **Kinetic** turned the shield of Orc 1 a little bit. There was no use, the entire mass of the orc was advancing. Demit and Brewary stood to meet them. Demit dove out of the way in a combat roll, avoiding the slash and tackle from Orc 1. Brewary used **Rage Blow** to stop Orc 2. The weapons clashed and there was a crunch as Brewary's Zweihander did some damage to the shield. Orc 2's sword came out and he dodged it, launching **Reverse Thrust** that clashed against the orc's helmet. It swung again, but was caught by **Wind**. Another blow to the helmet. Brewary's fighting style was to aim for the face, unless using 'that unsightly **Rage Blow** '. Orcs generally wore open-faced helmets, as they wanted their opponents to see their face. To compensate, they were skilled enough to turn their heads aside and their helmets blocked attacks against the face. With its back turned by running past Demit, Orc 1 took **Penetrator** in the back. It pulled out a throwing axe and hurled it at Roland. Unable to move, he had to trust the Lamellar he wore. It stopped the axe, but it had landed spike part first, which bled him slightly. _Shit, that throwing_ axe _is heavy._

Demit punished Orc 1 with **Smash** to the helmet. It turned and grabbed Demit, dragging her around to Roland's line of sight. She blocked his shot. So was Brewary. Swinging, it roared. Demit caught it with **Guard Stance** and it moved its weapon aside, her hammer striking its pauldrons. Its shield came in next as a punch, the same time Demit drove her greaves into its face. The shield staggered Demit 2 steps to the side with a grunt, and her fist distracted the orc, opening a very small window. Roland wouldn't have tried if not for the 2 accuracy skills he had. **Kinetic** slammed and rang the scale armour on the orc, staggering it back a step. Demit recovered, took a step back to extend her range and **Smash** came down again, 2 handed and at maximum stave length. It raised its shield in time and the hammer splintered something. Orc 2 stabbed with its sword. Demit took it at the waist with her Lamellar. The shield came in, blocked by **Guard Stance**. Its scale armour took another hit. The orc grunted. That hammer was the right choice. The scales were no protection from concussive trauma.

Jakson was sent skidding, crashing into some crates. Orc 3, a Berzerker, jumped out of an alley and took **Penetrator** , pinning its right arm to its torso. It roared and with brute force unpinned its arm and yanked out the bodkin, victoriously snapping it with one hand while looking and Roland. The Berzerker had planned to flank Fireteam Alpha but was caught by Jakson in the alleyways. Its display of strength by yanking out the arrow gave Jakson time to rise. He used **Swat** to block Orc 3's twin cleavers. It parried **Kinetic** with one cleaver, which tore it out of its grip. Laughing, it repositioned Jakson between itself and Roland, blocking shots again. One weapon on an orc was better than 2, so Jakson could **Swat** with his Baselard in defence and stab with his Stiletto. Occasionally, he got a **Slap** through, but the Berzerker had bracers that protected the wrist as much as the arm. Roland, frightened of orc archers, scanned the streets and rooftops.

He couldn't help but marvel at his team. Brewary is an orc killer. Sometimes he manages to decapitate one with no fuss. Demit had a slight advantage over hers, as long as she wasn't caught in a surprise stab or tackle or dual wielding berserker. Priests were never meant to be very good frontline combatants but Demit made up for it in armour, daily training and focus on staff skills rather than Light Magic. He wondered what **Revenge** was capable of in Demit's hands. Jakson preferred to ambush and fade away, but when pressed, he used **Swat** extensively in defence. His stance was like a boxer, with both hands protecting his face, both daggers reverse gripped. Sometimes Roland observed Jakson trying to trace lines in the air with the tip of his dagger, imagining its path, always ending in **Backstab**.

Speaking of Jakson, he took down his opponent first. It was a rare sight since Jakson was not much of a face-to-face fighter. Scoring a deep cut along the orc's arm with his Baselard, he stabbed the berzerker in the neck with his Stiletto. The berzerker shoulder slammed him. He was staggered a few steps back but he remained standing, charging and driving the daggers into it. The orc tried picking its fallen weapon. Jakson kicked it away and tried to stab again, but was punched in the face. Toppling to the side, the way was open and **Penetrator** hit it in the thigh. Orc 3 approached and it tried punching but Jakson bled its arm some more with the Baselard. Aiming under the jaw, he drove his Stiletto upwards into the head. Jakson headed for Demit.

She was scoring hits, but was tiring slowly. The orc's shield was badly battered and the scales on its armour were displaced by hits. Its sword arm was battered, judging from the way it swung its sword. Jakson slipped under a swing by sliding and came up behind. **Backstab** dropped it in one smooth motion and stab. That Stiletto was paying itself off with dividends. The spike punctured through armour very well, although it wouldn't endure too many **Swat**.

"This one's mine, darlings", said Brewary. With a flourish, he used **Reverse Thrust** , hitting the face. The orc swung wildly and he used **Forward Thrust** , piercing the neck. The orc flailed madly with no thought of defence, enabling Brewary to decapitate it. They stood, catching their breath. Cheering erupted as windows and doors opened. Roland was shoved from the back and he fell painfully on the pavement below. He looked up to see a grandmother waving her stick angrily at him.

"Loot!", yelled Jakson. People were coming out from hiding, inching closer. The first Berserker to die was already being looted. Jakson sprinted and yelled at the direction of his kill, scattering people who were about to loot Orc 3. People were gathering courage to loot under their noses, inching ever closer. Demit took a few steps forward and raised her staff. The mob fell over each other as they retreated.

"Fuck out of here, assholes. F.T.A property!". Brewary was already looting his. Demit took hers and made a sign for every dead orc.

"The orcs are leaving!", yelled a boy, clutching to a chimney. The crowd cheered louder. Some cheering could be heard in the distance as well. As Fireteam Alpha left, the mob fell on the dead orcs, spitting and kicking and looting them. Those orcs still had gear. At the very least, it could be sold for scraps, spare leathers or spare scales. The most important thing were the orc money bags and their crystal buttons. Convinced that the orc invasion would be the talk of the day, they decided to have drinks in Sherry's.

"- and that's how it went!", said Haruhiro at the next table. He told the story quite loudly in his excitement, so he could be overheard by many. Apparently, the invasion wasn't an invasion, but a raid led by an 'Ish Dogran', the orc in black armour and animal hide cape. The orc boss decided to stop the raid so he could duel Renji, who won after taking a few hits. Honouring the duel, the raid was stopped cold and the orcs left when Renji broke the neck of the boss. Haruhiro was in awe of Renji, who he praised non-stop. Ranta cut in, swearing that he would be just as awesome. His team mates weren't going to let him get away with that.

"Right. I'm hungry as fuck and I'm not gonna sit here and listen to this motherfucker."

"Yea. We've heard enough", agreed Roland. They've had enough of the day. It was time for dinner. They passed Haruhiro in turn.

"Get on it, soldier", said Demit, slapping his shoulder. Roland patted and wished him luck. Jakson ruffled his hair.

"You work hard now, Goblin Slayer", said Brewary, patting Haruhiro. Ranta made angry noises as they left.

"So what we fought was some smartass motherfucker orcs who thought splitting from the main force was a good idea?", asked Demit.

"Yep", said Roland.

"Dumbass motherfuckers. I saw the first kill. Fucker was walking like he owned the place. Great shot, Marksman". Roland was quite happy. He was proud of his bow skills.

"Why 'Fireteam Alpha', though?", asked Roland

"Because 'Team Demit' is for fucking kids. We're going to get in a circle and join hands, 'What's gonna work? Teamwork!'?". That sounded familiar.

"Not to mention the number of times we don't take orders from you", joked Brewary. Jakson laughed.

"I ought to have you fuckers lined up and shot."

"Fireteam is 4 people, nyet? Is only Roland using bow", remarked Jakson.

"Shut the fuck up, Broski". The group laughed.

Some distance walk away, they found Renji who had looted Ish Drogan's sword. It looked just like the kind of sword he would carry. Brewary flirted with him, in which he gave a look of pure disgust. Their tiny mascot-Priest made a sound and stuck out her tongue at them. His head cocked to the side, the team Paladin was acting and talking like some kind of Yakuza underling from an anime. _Anime? Yakuza? What are those again?_ As usual, as soon as he remembers or hears something familiar, it slips away from the back of his mind. Demit stepped up and was having a stare-down with the Paladin.

"Right here right now, bitch", said the Paladin.

"Ladies first, asshole", answered Demit. Their barely clothed Thief and glasses-wearing Mage kept silent, as did Jakson and Roland. Their gear looked just as expensive as what Fireteam Alpha wore. Demit and the Paladin exchanged a few more insults.

"Enough!", barked Renji. That was enough to stop their Paladin. He backed away, but not before spitting to the side. Renji looked at Brewary.

"Stay out of my way, faggot", he continued.

"Oh Puppy, there I was thinking you were the bold type", answered Brewary. Renji's sword hand quivered, but no attack came. He may carry himself like a thug, but he's no people-killer. There was some good in Renji, and Roland's respect for him rose. Renji looked at all members of the team for the first time. His gaze was piercing as he studied each member. There was some kind of recognition in the way he looked at them. He may hate Brewary, but this group was no pushover. Some seconds passed and he chose to ignore Brewary, walking away. His team followed.

"See you around, Puppy. You still owe me that date. You know only one man in all Grimgar can take you, and that's me!". Renji walked and pretended the whole team wasn't there. The mascot-Priest turned around and raised her middle finger at Brewary. Team Renji did not notice.

"Fucking dictatorship. There's no democracy over there. You kill the leader, you wipe the team, Hooah", remarked Demit. Brewary did not like the prospect of his Puppy dying. He told Demit where she could place that opinion.

They fell into routine again. Gear was maintained or replaced. Kvass was made and consumed. The 2 never moved out because they became attached to the place. They settled in, purchasing and installing things like shelves and drawers. They even had a rapport with the establishment owner. Brewary paid off his loans with surprising speed, at one point even giving up his portion of the loot for repayments. They found out something by accident one night when they decided to look for company. A Pimpernel who liked both men and women recognised them and mentioned off-hand that Brewary offered services too, and he was one of the higher charging ones, with an approval-only, male-only clientèle. _So that's why he has no problems borrowing large sums of cash._ The 2 men pretended they didn't know anything, and didn't mention it to Demit.

Orcs were killed, and they saw orcs kill humans and each other. Orcs were resourceful and developed their capabilities just like humans did so occasionally the party returned empty-handed. Brewary accepted all duels, which he never lost. There were some near-death scrapes, though. Roland was once out of action for 3 days, recovering from an orc arrow and a damaged organ. He bled as badly as Demit did from her neck wound. Jakson broke an arm and it was twisted at a bad angle when a Berserker grabbed and hammered. He wailed in pain at the bone setter before being healed and passing out. Brewary was shot at quite a lot as he protected Demit while advancing, but his armour held and he got better at using the sword crossguard to block arrows.

One day, Brewary brought news.


	21. Chapter 21

They were at Ruai. Dinner was over and they had their usual drinks of grain wine and distilled grains.

"This news comes straight from nobility, darlings. Bri-chan's going to announce it only when he damn well feels like it, so keep those pleasure holes closed, I'm only telling you because you're my sweet, sweet darlings. Okay?". The rest nodded.

"First, the lay of the land. We know Deadhead Watching Keep, but 40km West is another one called Riverside Iron Fortress. It's supplied by the upstream Orc Kingdom. Every time Deadhead gets attacked, they use smoke signals and Riverside comes to help"

"Fuckload that will do, at 40 clicks away", said Demit.

"Dragoons, Paprika dear. Orcs ride these giant lizards, making up their version of Cavalry troops. They arrive in an hour". He paused to drink.

"So, the operation is called 'Operation Twin-Headed Snake'. 2 forces will assault both keeps simultaneously. And yes, this is payback for that raid. This time, they don't want Deadhead to be retaken again, so they're making it permanent by cutting off reinforcements."

"So how's this going to work?", asked Demit.

"We get paid 1 gold in total, in Scrips, exchanged at Yorozu. 20 silvers for accepting, 80 more once it's over. We accompany the Frontier Army, which means orders are coming from them", said Brewary to Demit.

"Outstanding. Fireteam Alpha will join the mission in Riverside Fortress."

"Oh no, Paprika. That's by invite only. Orion, Daybreakers, Iron Knuckle and some others are going along, since the bulk of the Army is heading that way. Unless your clan name is specifically mentioned, you don't join Red Snake Force. There's not even going to be a notice. The clans will just march out with the Frontier Army". He drank again.

"Now, Blue Snake Force is open to anyone willing. We'll wait for the official notice from the Office before accepting."

"Commanders, Generals, anything?", asked Demit.

"This part is all gossip, so don't believe everything you hear. One person in particular might cause trouble; Brigadier General Wren Waters."

"Fuck's that?", asked Demit.

"Some mainland noble who's only here because of his coin and lineage. I hear he's a coward, flaccid, secretly likes a pounding, and he'd shut down any establishment that won't work his little man", said Brewary.

"What's his class?", asked Roland.

"Paladin."

"Fuck someone like that can become Paladin?", asked Demit.

"Anyway, a downright coward, and usually holds a large portion at the back for his own protection. When he shows up, you can expect to enter battle not in full strength, as a fine old veteran once told us 'young 'uns'. If we get wind that he's around and in heat, the Pimpernels will shut down temporarily", said Brewary, visibly upset.

"Hey hey hey. Stay on point, soldier. Anyone good coming along?", asked Demit.

"Anthony Justin", said Brewary excitedly. Yep. They knew Anthony Justin.

"Who else?"

"Ratty, Horn and Rasentra who leads Red Snake, we don't know them, but the Wild Angels Clan will be coming along too". As he said that, he sniffed in displeasure.

"Wild Angels? Fucking lesbian faggots with white feathers?"

"The very same."

"You know them?", asked Roland.

"Yea. They wanted to recruit me. You know the shit they said about you guys?"

"No, Paprika. We don't want to know". The others shook their heads as well.

"So they just trash talked you guys for 5 minutes then expect me to drop everything and come with them".

"So what did you say?", asked Roland.

"I said I didn't bunk and chow with my team, get the shit kicked out of me in fights then have my back covered by the toughest sons of bitches only to defect and turn traitor."

"No, you did not", said Brewary.

"They acted like I was giving out free head to you fuckers. I told them to fuck off. You know what sorority faggots like that do to newcomers? Eat egg. Smug bitch who runs the show won't bathe for a week and you have to eat out her fucking pussy. Gay initiation rights, man. That's what happens when there's only one gender. They're groping and fingering each other to blow off steam. Not talking about you, man. We cool", said Demit to Brewary. He chose to forgive 'that kind of questionable language' with regal air, as long as it wasn't directed at him or the Pimpernels. Apparently, the Pimpernels had bad run-ins with the Angels.

"But here's the fucked up part. She said that apparently you guys were worth it, and she won't judge me for that. I was ready to throw down with the bitches, expecting them to lose their shit, but she just… turned and walked."

"What, for real? So she's fine as long as the men prove themselves first?", said Roland. Demit scoffed.

"I wanna know who raped her ass. PTSD Kajiko, pretending women don't bleed, like there's no women gravestones on that hill."

"So are they going to be troublesome in battle later?", asked Roland.

"Oh they're good, Honey. They just don't trust men."

"Well if they start shit around you, you can quote me; FUCK. YOU."

"That's more than your allotment of cussing for the day, Paprika"

As they left Ruai that night, Demit asked more questions.

"Not picking a fight. I just gotta know…"

"What is it, Paprika?"

"The priests at the temple told me about 'your Pimpernel companion', you running with another crew?"

"We're a social club, Paprika dear. We all come from different clans and teams. Like any organization, we help each other out in more ways than one. I'm still Fireteam Alpha and proud of it". Brewary bade them goodnight with a slight laugh, 'for there are matters to tend to'.

"You guys got no problem at all with this?"

"Little problem. But Pimpernel not touch wrong places", Jakson said and shrugged.

"Yea. Basically the kind of sex jokes he makes, but they tend to see us as more as Brewary's pets. They're actually quite nice."

"You motherfuckers. They're feeding you, aren't they?". The 2 men nodded and laughed.

"Is good wine", replied Jakson. Demit raised an eyebrow.

"Typical". Demit kicked dirt at them.

"Have you no shame?"

Fireteam Alpha went about their business as usual. However, they checked in Sherry's every evening. One day, Orion members were no longer present. The notice came out after that. They went to the Office to accept the mission.

"One gold coin, with no mention of daily or weekly pay. These people want it done in a day. One big fucking battle to end it all". They were issued the military Scrips; small, round and flat disks with serial numbers and an amount carved into them. They cashed out their Scrips at Yorozu right away. As usual, the Fourth Yorozu sat at her place, remembering all. There was also that one quirk.

"Krestovozdvizhensky. What business do you have with Yorozu today?", she asked, like she owned the name and had to explain it patiently to people who couldn't say it.

"Change sovznaki, then deposit". Jakson placed his 20 silver Scrip and some coins in the tray on her counter.

"Krestovozdvizhensky, state your purpose clearly. Do you wish to change the Military Scrip for its promised amount in Silver, then deposit these coins?", she asked, pointing to the Scrip and the coins separately with her pipe.

"Nyet, Cheburashka. Change sovznaki, deposit all." Yorozu's eyes narrowed at her new nickname.

"Your 20-Silver Military Scrip, serial number zero-zero-one-six, will be converted to the promised amount in Silver, and deposited alongside 2 silver and 38 coppers. A fee of 22 coppers will be deducted from the total 22 silvers and 38 coppers stored". She turned to the exact page bearing Jakson's name in one go, and in her flawless flowing script, listed down the Scrip's serial, total deposited, fee deducted and grand total remaining in Yorozu care. Her ledger calculated to 2 decimal places. There were still 0.38 coppers owed to Yorozu. Some other transaction down the line will be charged a whole extra copper once that amount owed reaches a full coin. She rang her little bell and the silver dressed worker appeared, replaced the tray with an empty one, and disappeared into the back room.

"Now that that transaction is concluded, is there any other you may have?". Each member changed and deposited their own scrip.

A day before Muster, Red Snake Force mustered first and left for Riverside. People gathered to see the most powerful clans show up in one place before leaving with the Frontier Army.


	22. Chapter 22

Orders were to gather at 3AM to facilitate the attack at dawn. Fireteam Alpha came to the muster point at the North Gate, which was rowdy with people and vendors. There was last minute smithing, sharpening, purchases and tailor work. A warrior was getting impatient as an artisan mended a hole in his chainmail link by link. Ad hoc bars were set up, people were buying overpriced food sold in trays and deep bowls. A vendor explained that last minute preparations and labour costs for carrying things all the way to North Gate jacked up the prices. Fortunately for Fireteam Alpha, with insistence and instruction from Demit, had already prepared food the night before.

"Word from the Pimpernels is that the attack is to be from 3 directions. The main attack will be by the Frontier Army under Waters. Bri-chan will lead one and we will be allocated to another led by the Angels, just so any Pimpernels can step in if the Angels slip up", said Brewary. He then bemoaned his fate at not being able to see his favourite puppy fight.

"Look at all that ammo, marksman", remarked Demit. Roland carried 2 quivers, one at the side and one diagonally across his back. He took out the divider in his main quiver and it was packed with 50 arrows. The second, another 50. Loading in the arrows was gentle work, because he did not want the fletchings to ruffle too badly. Still, without the divider, the fletchings would still rub against each other. In their carrying bags, a generous portion for a day's worth of food, 4 medicated bandages each. They carried 2 waterskins each as well.

"100 arrows", he answered.

"You sure that's enough, Honey?"

"I think so, for just one battle. A longer campaign would need more, which means I have to pay for the services of the cart and a runner to fetch ammo". 100 arrows felt heavy. Thankfully, archery training strengthened his back. They did make the quiver bang against him when he walked, which annoyed him a little.

Final preparations to march were underway. Frontier Army stood in neat lines and rows while the Volunteer Soldiers were in disorganised groups at the back of the line. Regular army viewed the Volunteers with some distaste. _Cut us some slack, why don't you? If Alterna falls, we're done, just like you. We got stake in this too, you know?_ , thought Roland. Looking around at the Volunteers' conduct, he couldn't really blame Army for thinking that way. With a shout from a Man-at-arms Warrior in the distance, marching was heard. The movement of plates, gear and feet made quite a sound.

"Fireteam Alpha, move out". Three quiet 'Hooah' and an 'Ura' answered. The Army marched out in orderly lines, followed by supply wagons, with the Volunteer army following behind in a disorganised mob. Some Volunteers actually fell in step, either finding it funny or as a point of honour. Way back, stragglers with food in their mouths, putting on gear as they jogged to catch up. By Roland's reckoning, about 700 Frontier Soldiers and 200 Volunteer Soldiers would participate. Roland observed the carts; _Lots of small shields, some wooden screens.. is that a roof? Large bundles of hides… barrels, tables_ and _chairs…. a battering ram?_

At the end of the march, Britanny called out;

"All of you darlings, pay attention! Gather around me, right now! I'm going to give a rundown of the plan! Okay? Quickly now! Hurry, scurry!". Demit left the group. Brewary walked off to other Pimpernels. Observing them, they wore the same red flower painted on the chest and the same red plume feathers in hoods, helmets or hanging off weapons. They were also quite high contact, with hugging, leaning against or touching while talking.

Britanny was circled by Team Leaders as he laid down a map and started giving orders. He took the time to make passes at Renji and argued a little with a lady in white. _That would be Kajiko?_

"Ever seen the Chief in armour?", Roland asked Jakson. He shook his head.

"Full Paladin armour, but with green hair, black lipstick, eyeliner and rouge. His sword looks heavy, though."

"Ask gay question, chuvak. Brewary, or Chief?", said Jakson, laughing slightly.

"You know if we don't say 'Brewary', he'll find out through some kind of freak magic, and the Pimpernels stop giving us things?". The 2 men laughed. They waited for Demit to return. Jakson squatted while Roland remained standing. Those 2 quivers really got in the way. _Tch. These arrows and quivers are what... 7 or 8 kilos?_. He sighed.

Later, Demit came back. Brewary saw her returning and rejoined the group. She grabbed a stick and drew in the sand. There was a box with 3 circles and 3 arrows in a larger circle. Some other Volunteer Soldiers came to watch as well. She pointed as she explained.

"Deadhead Watching keep has 3 towers. In one of them is the fucker who runs the place". She pointed at the 2 arrows across each other.

"We're up first. Chief leads the western 'Greenstorm', while Kajiko the eastern 'Wild Eagle' in a simultaneous attack. That's where we'll be. This will cause a diversion for this -", she said, pointing to the last arrow,

"- the main force who will break down the south gate". She then pointed at the circle.

"We will protect ladder carriers all the way to the wall, who will also assemble and raise them. Surrounding the keep are orc camps. Kill everything on sight". She pointed to the outer walls.

"Intel says 200 orcs defending the walls, with archers. They're mostly the Zesh clan. Markings are black hair and red paint. They have standardised equipment; a shield and sword, red helmets, bows and arrows."

"Wait, they're all either warriors or archers?", asked Roland. His heart dropped at the prospect.

"Assume it is, soldier. Leading them is Zoran Zesh. You'd know it when you see it. It uses 2 swords, with a personal bodyguard of about 20. Expect Orc Sorcerers as well. According to intel, their magic is Psychokinesis and Bugs. Unlike Mages, they don't need to draw sigils. That's why they're priority 1 target, and that's where you come in, Marksman". Demit placed a hand on Roland's shoulder. He nodded, feeling not really comfortable with an invasion with an enemy type he hasn't fought before. Demit then explained the location of staircases inside the walls and exposed places where archers in the towers could still fire.

"If you see smoke, that's the keep asking for help, like Brewary told us before. Hopefully, the plan goes well and the Riverside invasion starts at the same time. There won't be reinforcements that way."

Orders came for the detachment to split. They divided themselves west and east. In the south, torches were lit by the main force. Orc torches lit up as well. There was no hiding 700 well-armoured Frontier Soldiers. The Volunteers were ordered to go dark and quiet.

Dawn came.


	23. Chapter 23

Being close enough, there was actually quite a lot of rubble from broken camps. Roland wondered if it was infighting or humans who did it. The rubble made good hiding spots, concealing the almost 100 people who snuck up in the dark. Peeking out, he saw more details than the heads and spikes. Scrap metal was used in the towers and walls, giving extra defence and a more sinister look to the place. He joined Jakson who was drinking and eating silently. He had a third skin of Kvass in his bag. Roland never did pick up the practice of carrying alcohol out. His skins always carried water.

Kajiko was keeping an eye on her silver timepiece. It looked like it cost handfuls of gold to purchase. She then closed it, tucked it in her chest and nodded to her clanswomen. Alright. Here we go. Roland opened the cover of his quiver and drew a bodkin, activating **Quick-eye** and **Stop-eye**. Drawing her sword, she stood with her clanswomen and they let out a piercing war cry. The force surged forward with Kajiko and her guards in front, ladders following at the rear, carried by the less experienced parties (judged based on their gear, which was quite an accurate assessment).

She had additional orders the night before. Archers would form a line and shoot, advancing to a stage where wooden shields allowed them to have a fire-fight with the defenders. All melee fighters were to engage the camps, using more of the wooden shields or their own to protect the ladder carriers, who were told to advance without stopping. They would then assemble the ladders. Priority was given to more veteran Volunteers who would ascend and clear the walls.

Orcs, having higher ground and not needing to move, shot first. Thankfully most orcs were facing the south wall so the hail was light but still, orc arrows brought down a few. Shields rose and the return fire rained down on the camps by the walls. The archer exchange had yet to begin.

"Don't stand so close, you filthy male!", yelled an Angel Hunter.

"I don't want your stink to rub off on me!"

"Stand further away, scum!"

"I'll quote my party leader, Demit the Priest. 'Fuck. You.' Kajiko said 'archer's line', and that's where I'm standing. You don't like Kajiko's orders, take it up with her". To prove his point, **Penetrator** struck an orc on the wall. Roland's bow was heavier than what the Hunters had, giving him more range over the Hunters who fired into the lines. Being an Archer who used the bow more exclusively, he was also more accurate, and didn't need to tilt his back so far when firing long distance. He savoured the looks of rage on the Angels' faces.

"How dare you mention her name with your unwashed mouth!?"

"Leave the man. Focus on your jobs!", yelled a more veteran Hunter down the line. Roland grudgingly gave credit to the Angel Hunters. They outperformed almost everyone else in the archery line. Other Hunters, seeing Roland and the Angels, were psychologically beaten. Their aim became poorer. Fortunately, the melee line became too dense to fire into, and the order to advance will come soon. Smoke began to rise from one of the towers. There's the signal smoke. In the distance, another smokestack burned, and another, eventually leading to Riverside.

"Advance!", ordered the veteran Angel. They picked up their disposable pavise shields and advanced. An Angel pulled a Hunter from the line and placed her between Roland and the Angels. Another Hunter closed the gaps and asked,

"What the hell was that?"

"Archer skill."

"We're all archers and I haven't seen anything like it."

"We carry bows, which makes us Bowmen-"

"Bow-Women!", yelled an Angel. Roland ignored her.

"-but I'M an Archer, not a Hunter". The Hunter was trying to recall something. Roland gave him time.

"Is it that woodsman's hut somewhere down the road from the Guild?". Roland nodded. The Hunter shook his head in disbelief.

"You prefer to fight with that axe or use **Contact Shot**?"

"We call it **Point Blank** , but I never needed to learn it. My team's great."

"You Archers worship Eldritch?"

"No. We don't have deities. I'm a bit jealous of your Wolf Dogs though."

" **Rapid-fire**?"

"That 3 arrows in succession skilll? We call it **Handfull** , and we fire 4 instead of 3". The Hunter shook his head again.

"How?"

"Thumb ring. You can't **Handfull** with an archer's glove", answered Roland.

"So what you got that we don't got?"

" **Gemini**. Fire 2 arrows at once". This was all new to the Hunter. _How rare is the Archer class, dammit?_

"Hama, Team Bruno". He extended a hand. Roland took it.

"Roland, Fireteam Alpha". Hama laughed at the name.

"Place shields!", ordered the veteran. The line stopped. The pavises were supported by planks. The archer exchange started when orc arrows struck the pavises. Roland showed off by firing into arrow slits instead of the crenelations. It was too dark and narrow to gauge visually if an orc was ready to loose, so one of every 3 arrows stuck out of the slits for a second before going in, meaning he had hit something. Some Angels, not wanting to be outdone, tried to do the same but their arrows rattled off the walls.

"Holy shit!", exclaimed Hama. Roland laughed.

"If there's so much as an arrow scratch on Kajiko-sama, I'll kill all of you myself! I SAID LEAVE THE MAN!", roared the veteran Hunter down the line. The Angels concentrated on the exchange. Orcs were coming from south gate so Roland shifted his aim, targeting the gaps between the crenelations, slowing down the inner reinforcements. Eventually they formed a moving shield wall, which **Kinetic** interrupted by pushing off some more orcs, drawing more angry gazes from the Angels. _And how do you differentiate arrow scratches from the others? Bring it, Wild Angels. This is MY_ specialty _._

"Holy shit! Holy shit!", said Hama. The Hunter between Roland and the Angels began to fumble.

"Down. Down now", said Roland to the 2. They ducked behind their pavises. Some other Hunters followed.

"Breathe, soldiers", Roland yelled down the line. _Dammit, I'm sounding like Demit_.

"You're doing fine. Remember your training, slow your firing rate. I do what I do because I'm useless in melee, and that's something you have that I don't. I'm no more special than you are. Deep breaths."

"Stop lazing around, you filthy pig!", yelled an Angel. Roland ignored her.

"Aim small, miss small!". He peeked, rose and **Kinetic** broke the bow and slammed into the face of the Orc who was holding it. The 2 hunters also loosed and hit. Other Hunters tried and succeeded. Morale improved.

"Outstanding! Keep it up, Marksmen!". _That's exactly what Demit would say._

"The middle of the target is always the same size! Orc, Pit Rat, doesn't matter!" He pulled out his Elemental Bodkin. It was his last arrow.

"Switching quivers!", he announced. _Damn, that was fast_. Roland fired about 15 arrows a minute if firing carefully. At maximum speed without compromising too much accuracy, he did 20.

The ladders rose with a cheer, the last orcs on the ground died. Mages now began aiming at the walls. The orcs on top were bathed in fire, lightning and ice. Shadows wrapped themselves around some, making them easy targets. Kajiko led by climbing first, followed by her personal guard. All ladders had Angels leading the way. One ladder was pushed off and raised again. One Volunteer who fell off a ladder did not move anymore.

"Ladders! Protect the ladders!", ordered the Hunter in charge. They aimed accordingly.

Wounded Volunteer soldiers crawled, limped or were led back for treatment, where triage outside of bow range had formed. Demit returned, a Warrior leaning on her shoulder for support, a deep cut in his abdomen. Angel Priests didn't discriminate genders, choosing to stabilise the most severe cases first, like other Priests. Roland agreed with Brewary. _They're good. They just don't trust men._ His annoyance with the Angel Hunters subsided somewhat.

"Roland! Bandages!". He gave all he had to Demit. He remembered Demit had less magic than most Priests.

"Where're the others?", he asked.

"They're waiting to climb", she answered. A collective roar of orcs and humans were heard in the distance, south. _What was that?_

"Fuck was that?", asked Demit.

"Back to work, Priest. Don't waste time on this slob",

"Ay, fuck you. F.T.A., motherfucker". She grabbed some arrows from the Hunter's quiver and handed it to Roland.

"Hey!"

"Oh, what you gonna do?", Demit repeated the question again and the Hunter, figuring out that she was against Demit the Priest, went back to shooting. The Warrior groaned in pain and Demit helped him up again.

"Up we go soldier, almost there. Just needed some supplies is all".

"I thought Priests had things like **Heal** and **Sacrament** ", he complained.

"Well my Fireteam is competent, soldier. **Cure** and bandages were all I needed", answered Demit. _That's a goddamn lie, woman_. Looking back at the triage, some Priests were already to the side, meditating to restore magic. Healed Volunteers walked back to the walls to continue the fight. The Angels war cry brought his attention back to the walls. Angel Hunters along the line did their war cry too, raising their bows. Volunteers had made it to the top, and there was fighting all along the wall. The fight was now taking place inside or on the walls.

"On the wall, now", ordered the Veteran Angel. The Angel Hunters joined the ladder climbing. Hama fist bumped Roland before leaving as well.

"If you mess up, the Scarlet Pimpernels will clean up after you!", he yelled after them. The Veteran Angel Hunter heard that and looked back.

There were injured Volunteers occupying one ladder, climbing down. They still had to make the journey back to the triage, which couldn't be brought closer because the towers still had arrow slits. Roland counted his arrows. 24 plus the elemental coating bodkin.

Jakson appeared with Brewary, using the excuse to help the wounded to climb back down. It looked convincing as both had bloody bandages. Brewary was slightly annoyed.

"Sugar says we got no business up there", he explained.

"South gate not open, chuvak. North gate reinforce with boss and orc mage. People trapped and die in keep", explained Jakson.

"You scouted this out yourself? Because we're telling Demit."

"Da. I say not go in."

"If Sugar says so", said Brewary. They went to tell Demit, who was bandaging someone.

"Give 'em if you got 'em". They gave up their last medicated bandages.

"The place is a death trap. Casualties are mounting inside. South gate hasn't opened and north gate reinforcement includes Zoran and its retinue, including the Sorcerers."

"How good is this intel, soldier?"

"Is scouted by me", replied Jakson. Demit cussed. Jakson is a reliable scout, failing only once when he was caught in the Damrow New City ambush. _Well, the few times he doesn't spot crossbow goblins too, but I won't hold it against him._ His scout report record is near spotless.

"Chief going south gate. Maybe we go from outside", suggested Jakson. There was no telling what was happening from the outside. The arrows had stopped, it looked like the orc archers were firing onto the Volunteers who were trying to get up the tower stairs. Demit and Brewary wanted to be in there. Jakson had proved himself too much to have his scout reports doubted. Roland secretly didn't want to go. _Never mind the gold bounty on the Zesh's head._ He had nothing other than **Chop** for close quarters, which was his least used skill.

"Open space for his sword and my bow. Plenty of room to move around too", he tried suggesting.

"Oh for fuck's sakes I want a shot at that motherfucker", said Demit.

"So do I, Paprika."

"Nyet. Not go in."

"Fine. Fucking hell. South gate it is. FUCK!" Fireteam Alpha left.


	24. Chapter 24

To their surprise, orcs fought at ground level at south gate. There was a battering ram for the gates but dead bodies lay around it. Orcs had pushed out away from the walls and there was a melee line as their last-ditch defence held the main army in check.

"O Light, may Lumiaris's divine protection be upon you… **Light of Protection** … fuck, I'm out."

"Stop trying before you fall over," said Roland.

"We're getting in there", insisted Demit. They asked an injured Warrior what had happened. He had bandages covering his eyes so he did not know he was talking to Volunteers.

"Orcs jumped off the wall and scattered us", he answered.

"There's supposed to be more of y-us", said Roland.

"Bastard Wren Waters took off at the first sign of trouble, bringing half our force with him for 'protection'. He's left someone else in charge 'to report back with victory'". He winced as Demit used her last medicated bandage on him.

"Since he took most of the Priests, we're short on healers", he continued. Injured people were lying unattended, while Priests with worried looks tried their best meditating to the side to recover magic. Mages were among them too. They left for the melee line. A Warrior Man-at-arms called them. They were to be split according to roles. It was the nature of a pitched battle.

"Archers form line!", he said, pushing Roland in one direction.

"Warriors, get in there and plug the gaps!". Demit, robes concealed under her armour, kept her head down and advanced with Brewary. Jakson joined them.

Roland joined the archer line, raised on some hastily dug earth rampart. The orcs wore different colour paint and hair from Clan Zesh, and their clan archers were more accurate. They fired into the melee below, and the crenellations protected them adequately. This was a fight of attrition. Humans were being worn down slowly as the orcs killed more than they could. They could've won, but when the Orcs gave a surprise attack to defend the gate from the outside, Waters took off with an unreasonably large detachment to protect himself. The orc boss was in the thick of it, in orc full plate and wielding an orc warbrand. It was not a tool for subtlety like Brewary's Zweihander. It chopped and cut savagely, backed by the weight and length of the weapon itself.

Regulars looked at him like a mangy, diseased dog had walked up to them.

"Make sure you don't hit one of us, mercenary", a Hunter said. _You know what? Fuck this_. Roland pulled out his elemental coated bodkin. _Time to find out what this does._ **Penetrator** sailed through the air. Roland watched its arc as if it were slow motion. The orc boss was hit mid-swing and the arrow embedded itself in its right arm just as it passed in front of its chest. Roland's heart sank.

Suddenly, a burst of lightning crackled out of the arrow. The boss roared and spasmed, but remained standing. In that small window another Warrior stepped up and with a cleave, took off its head. It was Anthony Justin. The 2 lines roared and ramped up their brutality. Orcs wanted revenge for their leader, and humans were glad to see the tides turn.

"Get down!". Roland felt himself falling and saw sky. Puzzled, he looked at himself, at the orc arrow sticking out of his chest. The pain registered. He coughed up blood and hands grabbed him. The last thing he saw was Hunters hiding behind their wooden screens from an arrow shower as he was being dragged away. They were all looking at him. He blacked out.

The line was packed. Brewary held his Zweihander like a spear and stabbed and parried. Demit was behind and to the left, hammering over the shoulder of a Paladin. The Paladin looked tired and was using her shield as protection. Jakson couldn't be seen anywhere. It was a shoving and battering match, waiting for some other lucky gap to open and be exploited. A burst of electricity stunned the orc boss. Anthony Justin stepped in and took its head off. Everyone cheered as the orcs roared in rage. The orc fighting the Paladin grabbed the shield and stabbed down, killing her. Demit punished the orc with a **Smash** to the head. There was finally some room. Brewary swung **Rage Blow** horizontally, which the Orc jumped back to avoid instinctively. **Forward Thrust** pushed it back further. **Rage Blow** again, cutting the orc to his right. A gap had opened in the orc line, filled quickly by yelling Soldiers. The flank turned and the fight became a grapple. Jakson found a way to crawl in, grabbed an orc arm and stabbed his Stiletto into its neck.

The three fought through the mess. As they were in front, they reached the battering ram first. Jakson disappeared again while Brewary and Demit grabbed a bar. Cheering began as the last of the orcs died and positions under the hide and wood roof of the battering ram were filled.

"Shields! Archers!". Anthony Justin's voice carried across. Archers from the human line peppered the walls. Paladins raised shields and protected whoever they could. A shield wall formed. Those covered with plate activated **Steel Guard** and used their bodies as shields, holding their swords vertically to protect neck and groin.

"Pull!". The ram was pulled back. With a yell, everyone pushed, the ram banged against the door.

"Pull!". A yell and a bang.

"Pull!" Another yell and a bang. Arrows came down from a murder-hole above. Mages stepped into the already narrow space under the hide roof.

"Delm hel en balk zel arve!". The gate splintered and caught fire. The bang was deafening. A small crater formed under the door.

"The gate! We need to break only the gate! Use **Fire Pillar** , aim for the middle", instructed a Mage. The other nodded. They drew sigils.

"Delm hel en rig arve!". Fire pillars burned the gate fiercely. It crackled and the heat was uncomfortably close. Somehow it didn't bother the Mages. The battering ram slammed and the gate broke in slightly.

"One more! Pull!". With a roar and a crack, the ram crashed through and the gate became ajar, it's bar broken. The humans cheered.

"Delm hel en ig arve!". **Fireball** flew into the gap and burned an orc who wanted to shoot through. The mages turned to the crew manning the ram.

"Pull, get the ram out of the way!". Some warriors came up and helped move the ram. One of the mages died to an arrow from the murder-hole. Hunters arrived, firing into the gate gap. Paladins with shields leading, Frontier Soldiers pushed the gate open and streamed in.


	25. Chapter 25

At Ruai, the team filled in what Roland had missed. He was still pale and recovering, his head leaning(because it was pulled) against Brewary's shoulder. _I don't care. Stroke my hair some more. Fuck that battle. Fuck the Frontier Army. Fuck my bow that went missing. Fuck_ orc _arrows. I wanna fuck after this. Ouch. Maybe not. I'll sleep._

After the gate broke and the enthusiastic Frontier Soldiers rushed in, they ran back to the archer line but wasn't there. He was found at the understaffed field hospital (which was better equipped than the one Kajiko set up), his bleeding stopped and left with the arrow still stuck to his chest. Roland was lucky, he was told. That expensive Lamellar Armour he wore stopped most of the arrow, with his rib doing the rest. His lung puncture wasn't too deep, but the rib was broken. He had lost his bow when he was dragged away to safety. Luckily, he only brought coppers to the battle which were looted alongside his food, water, and good bodkins. To make things worse, the boss kill support was claimed by a Mage that uses lightning magic. Fireteam Alpha protested, but they were told by a smug Frontier Army Soldier that 'Volunteers were to assault the East and West walls and claiming to be elsewhere was treason'. Demit insisted the archers in the line were asked but no Hunter stepped up. _A Volunteer Archer outperformed them after all. That's a good elemental arrow._ They were shooed by threats of imprisonment and bounty, for not honouring the contract by leaving their post. If there was a bounty for that orc boss, they wouldn't be getting it.

"So Waters is returning to the mainland to report his spectacular victory", said Brewary. They shook their heads and drank a bit.

"He came to the Lodge, did you know? Every Pimpernel wore regular clothes. None of us were properly dressed and we looked absolutely dreadful. We had quiet parties in our rooms instead. Even Sweet Bobo was paid and given the night off. So he threw gold at the bordellos - the one you two use, by the way, how sweet -", he said. Demit raised an eyebrow at the other 2.

" - so he threw a wild orgy anyway, but lost his temper because everyone knew he ran away. They couldn't roleplay 'Victorious Noble Returns from War' because no one could look him in the face". Demit shook her head, still glaring at the other 2.

"Paprika, they're paying customers and what they do is none of our business. So you fix that pretty face before I tell them what you're up to at night". Demit looked at Brewary angrily, who only adjusted his pomaded hair.

"We all need company, darling. Stop pretending otherwise. And just like you, they're cultured about it."

"What she do at night?", Jakson began to question. Demit held a finger at Brewary.

"Don't."

"Anyway, according to the Pimpernels on site, the bounty for Zoran Zesh was claimed by Puppy, Kajiko and… Team Haruhiro", he said excitedly. The others looked in surprise.

"What? How?", asked Demit. Jakson laughed and ordered more drinks.

"Good and bad luck, Paprika. They were in the right place. Teams gambled and searched tower by tower, but it was Puppy and Haruhiro that found Zesh first. Also, Haruhiro himself killed the Sorcerers, even after he was swarmed by insects. Kajiko joined the fight later when she cleared her tower. Bad luck is that Sugar was right. The casualties were high, especially among the newer teams. Team Haruhiro's Warrior, Moguzo, died", he added sadly. _So that's his name, Moguzo… ,_ thought Roland.

"You want hear more bad news?", asked Jakson.

"Fuck it. Let's get it out in the open now", said Demit.

"Ranta urod is good fighter", Jakson said. Brewary laughed and nodded.

"NO!"

"He is, Paprika. We saw him in action on the wall. He's actually the best fighter in the team, even when Moguzo was around."

"No. I refuse… shut the fuck up", said Demit. Roland agreed. _That asshole?_

"Pimpernels didn't believe it too. According to them, during the big fight he knew exactly where to place himself. He's just… loud. Which helps of course, when he distracted Zoran so it could be surrounded", said Brewary. Jakson agreed.

"He even dodged Zoran's attacks, which was something Moguzo or Puppy couldn't really do, and he toppled the lead Sorcerer so it could be taken down", he added.

"We're changing topic right now", said Demit, her hand on her forehead.

"I was thinking we expand the team. There's only so much 4 can do. I got a battle-tested Paladin for the front lines…"

"Oh, the one that takes up those quiet nights…", said Brewary.

"Shut… fuck…". Jakson and Roland laughed. Demit just raised both hands in frustration. She threw a bun at Brewary across the table.

"Well in that case, Slyvester is among the finest, a fire-wielding Mage and a man of unbridled passion. He'd love to be support with Honey here."

"Da. Now have 6", said Jakson.

"Sounds good. So we recruit both?". Everyone nodded. Roland sighed. He still felt a little tired. Demit looked like she figured something out.

"Hold up. You're a whore?", asked Demit. Brewary tutted impatiently.

"Woman, whores service everyone that pays. Someone I don't like could shower me with gold, and I'll deposit it in Yorozu with thanks. At best, he gets to dine with me and I play with his hair. If he gets rough, the Pimpernels start a smear campaign. And when the Scarlet Pimpernels start a smear campaign, the fires of hell descend."

"And you two fuckers know this?". Brewary cut through before the men could answer.

"Of course they do. A man of fine standing offered his girls free as a treat in my stead, but they declined. Also, our… associates… of the Bordellos has no negative report of the two. That's why the Scarlet Pimpernel will always have a soft spot for fine men like Honey and Sugar". Demit cringed visibly. Brewary laughed, still stroking Roland's hair. Roland still didn't give a damn. _Orc arrows shouldn't exist. My chest still hurts._ Demit changed the topic again.

"There's bounty on the Sorcerer too, right? So how much do they get?"

"Not too sure, dear. 50 or 60 gold maybe?". There was a few seconds of silence before laughter broke out.

"Well done, Goblin Slayer. For once, they earned more than we did", said Roland. He raised his mug.

"To the Goblin Slayers". Cheers.

"To victorious dead". Cheers. Mugs were refilled.

"Fireteam Alpha, now 6. Hooah!". Three 'Hooah' and an 'Ura'.

"Finally, to Honey who turned the tide at south gate. To Roland, The Archer!"

Cheers.


	26. Changelogs

8 Dec 2018

\- Still figuring UI out. A lot of my changes did not take place because I changed only the Doc Manager file and did not Update in Manage Stories. My story looks like a first draft, despite it having gone through 3 edits. Formatting is the main issue right now. I like new paragraphs to have some space before starting (like hitting TAB once in Word), which doesn't seem to work here.

\- 'Less than' and 'More than' sign does not work for skills, so skills are rewritten in Bold. For example, **Kinetic**.

\- Roland's thoughts are in _italic._

\- Missing bits all over the place, plus grammar corrections here and there. I am so sorry. The transfer (paste as text) and some last minute changes have shredded some content.

\- Changes and corrections done in Chapters 1 to 18. More later.

9 Dec 2018

\- Still kicking myself for being so sloppy.

\- A whole chapter was missing. Chapter 18 is the missing chapter, making the whole story 25 chapters total.

\- Added mentions of some other Archer skill names from my skill tree draft.

\- _Italic_ and **Skill Name** corrections, plus additions here and there from Chapters 19 to Chapter 25.

16 Feb 2019

\- This site is banned in Malaysia, so I'm posting it in that other one site with 'A' and 'O' for extra reach. Why would you ban FF? Because religious people are morons.

\- Don't know how many edits in and I'm still finding bits and pieces I missed out, skills I didn't B **old,** _thoughts I didn't Italic,_ or downright garbled sentences. So over the next few days, I will make sure the version here and there are the same. Thank you so much to the almost 10 people who read EVERY chapter. To the ones who loved what they read, thanks twice over.


End file.
